To Live Again
by niteryde
Summary: After Buu's defeat, Vegeta finds that his third shot at life just might be his best yet.
1. Moving on

**A/N: This story is the third and final installment to my Bulma/Vegeta canon series, and it follows after "You'll Be the Death of Me" (3 year fic) and "Change of Heart" (post Cell fic). Though I might make some references to those fics, it's not necessary to have read them beforehand. This story's meant to follow canon, so it can stand alone. I hope. :P**

**I don't own DBZ. Hope you guys like. :)**

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><p>He'd sacrificed his life to destroy Buu. He'd swallowed his pride for once in his life, and fused with his archrival, not caring that the fusion was meant to be permanent. He'd then worked with that same archrival, risking everything he had left to buy Goku the precious time he needed to prepare the Spirit Bomb to finish off Buu. Hell – it was <em>his <em>idea to use the damn Spirit Bomb in the first place.

Yes, suffice to say that without the Saiyan prince, Earth would have been doomed. He was a hero. A bonafide _good guy, _officially declared so by Shenron. He should have been proud of himself.

But he wasn't. Truthfully, he was just tired.

Vegeta was sitting down on the sofa, his head reclining in his hand, his elbow resting on the arm rest. His other arm was on the back of the sofa, allowing Trunks to subtly lean into his side as they both watched TV in silence. His son hadn't left his side since they got back home, and Vegeta had yet to breathe a word of complaint about it. Being near each other was enough for both of them after their ordeal.

For now, anyways. Vegeta knew that Trunks had things to say about what happened, and that sooner or later, they would talk about it. He wasn't exactly looking forward to it.

"Hey, Vegeta?" Bulma called to him.

The prince glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. It was the first time she had addressed him since telling him hours ago in her hoverjet about the small get-together she was throwing that night. He was opposed to it, of course. All he wanted to do was sleep. But both Bulma and Trunks seemed to want it, and so he kept his objections to himself for once.

"What?"

"I need your help taking some of this stuff outside. Can you come over here, please?"

They both knew that she was lying. After all, Bulma had her bots to do anything and everything regarding heavy lifting, and when she _did _require Saiyan help, it was usually her son that she ordered to help her. What she really wanted was to talk to Vegeta in private before her friends started arriving. She had left him and Trunks alone as long as she could, but now she wanted to talk.

Vegeta hesitated a second. Finally, he nudged Trunks, making the boy sit up straight. The prince then got up and walked over to her. Bulma turned around and headed into the kitchen, with Vegeta following close behind her. His wife stopped and gestured at the three large plastic bags of ice in their large freezer.

"Just these three?" Vegeta asked, pulling one twenty pound bag out and slinging it over his shoulder. He felt her watching him, but he was just focused on the ice.

"For now. Don't want the sodas to get warm," Bulma distantly said, clearly not caring about sodas at that moment.

"Hn," he grunted, balancing the second bag easily with the first, and then lifting the third in his hand. He turned around without looking at her and walked out into their backyard, with Bulma following him. Ice, sodas, get-togethers. It was like everything was back to normal. At least, until she finally got right down to it.

"So, are we going to talk about it?" Bulma asked once she was sure Trunks couldn't easily overhear them. Vegeta frowned, dropping the bags of ice into different plastic tubs filled with drinks for the get-together.

"Nothing to talk about," he grumbled, squatting down in front of one of the tubs.

Her eyes narrowed. "You _died_, Vegeta-"

"I'm here now," Vegeta cut her off, ripping open the bag of ice harder than he needed to.

"I know that you're here now," she said, her voice softening. Bulma couldn't resist the urge to touch his back when he stood up. Vegeta turned to face her, and she hugged him as soon as he did. She had restrained from embracing him when the others had been there, but no one was watching them now, and she so badly needed to feel him. Vegeta settled his hands on her hips, holding her against him.

"You died too," he commented quietly.

"Yeah, but…" her voice trailed off. She knew that their experiences hadn't been the same. Bulma drew away and looked him carefully in the eye. "Are you sure you're okay? You know, with the whole Majin thing, having that creep Babidi in your head…" He broke their eye contact as she rubbed his shoulders. "I can't even imagine, what that must've been like-"

"Bulma, I let it happen," Vegeta bluntly interrupted. Bulma stopped rubbing his shoulders, visibly confused. He continued before she could get a word in, "I could have stopped him, if I truly wanted to, but I didn't. I knew what he could offer me, and so I let him take control and turn me Majin. Not that it matters now, but I thought you should know," he finished with a careless shrug.

"Wait…what?" Bulma finally asked, her blue eyes sharpening as she recalled the look on her husband's face at the tournament while he goaded Goku into a fight, and the horrible feeling that she had lost him. "You mean that you killed those people at the tournament and you could have stopped it?"

"I just wanted to fight Kakarot. Those humans weren't my concern."

"Do you know how close you came to killing me-"

"You weren't my concern either." The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them, and the hurt that flashed over her face was immediate. Vegeta looked away, ran a hand up through his hair, and sighed. "Woman, it doesn't matter-"

"Bull-_shit_, it doesn't matter! What the hell did he offer you that was SO good, huh?" Bulma hissed, her hurt quickly giving way to the anger rising inside her. "Well? What was it?"

"Nothing you could understand-"

"Try me," she challenged.

"Fine," Vegeta snarled as his patience snapped. "He gave me power that I couldn't achieve on my own, and he took away my attachments to you and Trunks. It was what I wanted, to feel like I did before I ever met you, and Babidi gave me that. I was finally able to match up with Kakarot – or so I thought. I did what I had to do. Don't fucking look at me like that, woman," he growled in warning. "You asked the question, I gave you the answer. Not my fault if you can't handle it."

Bulma turned away from him, and restlessly paced a bit, trying to bring herself under control lest she rip him a new one. She lasted all of five seconds before she whirled back around to face him, looking at him in a mixture of hurt, disbelief, and growing rage. "Six years. We've been married six goddamned years, Vegeta, and how long did it take you to let Babidi throw that away? A minute? Two min-"

"It doesn't MATTER!" Vegeta yelled in frustration. "You're alive, Trunks is alive, I'm alive, your precious planet is intact, everything turned out picture perfect, so what the fuck does it matter what happened with Babidi!"

"It matters to ME, Vegeta!" Bulma fearlessly yelled back at him. "I need to know that if tomorrow, you get the choice for power, immortality, or whatever the fuck comes your way, that you won't turn your back on us in a second to take it! I need to know-"

"You don't need to know ANYTHING!" he practically screamed in her face. "I've given up _everything_ for you and that boy, ever since Cell was defeated. Everything I've done has been for either you or him! I had the chance to regain honor in battle against Kakarot, and I did it because that's what I needed at the time. It wasn't about YOU, it was about ME-"

"Yes, of course it was about _you_," Bulma bitterly sneered. "How stupid of me to think that all these years we've spent together, that they're worth more than one last, glorious shot at Goku in a fight-"

He growled low in his throat, "That is not what I meant-"

"Umm…'scuse me..." Trunks awkwardly cut in, getting his parents' attention as he stood at the back door. The boy had seen his hot-tempered parents arguing and bantering with each other millions of times, but this was different. Their tones were meaner, nastier than he'd ever heard them before. He didn't like it one bit. Visibly uncomfortable as he stared down at his feet, Trunks muttered, "Krillin's here with Android 18 and Marron. Just thought you guys should know."

He turned around and quickly headed back inside. Bulma and Vegeta made eye contact, both of them studying each other. Finally, she sighed deeply.

"Okay. You did what you did. You had your reasons. Fine. But what I want – what I _need _from you, is a promise that you won't let it happen again. I mean, goddamnit, Vegeta, do you even regret tossing us aside like that?" All she got back was a neutral, emotionless stare. "Do you even care?" she asked him in exasperation.

Suddenly, Vegeta decided that he was too tired and irritated to deal with this right now. He turned around, walking away and leaving Bulma alone in the backyard with angry, unshed tears. Best he walk away before he say something that he would truly regret- especially regarding her questions. Of course he regretted his decision. Of course he cared about her and Trunks. The fact that she even had to ask offended him. She had always read him with such pinpoint accuracy, understood how he felt without him needing to articulate it, sparing him the awkwardness of trying. He didn't understand why she couldn't do that now.

Bulma took a moment to get it together, but she couldn't deny her hurt over his silence. She tried to tell herself that her husband was right. It didn't matter anymore, because everything had come out "picture perfect". He had more than made up for his decision. Earth was intact, and though all of her friends would look towards Goku first as the reason why, she would always look towards Vegeta first. But was it so much to ask him for reassurance that it wouldn't happen again? Was he unwilling to give that reassurance out of pride, or because he would be lying if he did? She only had his retreating back as her answer.

A minute later, Bulma finally went back inside. More of her friends had arrived, and they were all being amused by Trunks, Marron, and Goten all playing the Wii on the large screen TV in the living room. Trunks caught her eye when she came in, and his eyebrows drew together as he scowled while he scrutinized her. She greeted Goku, Krillin, Android 18, and Yamcha, with warmth and kindness, even though she was distracted. The only one who truly noticed was Trunks, glancing her with a perception that was beyond his years, even while he played his game. When she looked back at him and motioned for him to step into the next room with her, Trunks instantly tossed his controller over to a startled Krillin, and then obediently went over to his mother.

"Hey kiddo, haven't had a chance to talk to you. You doing okay?" Bulma asked him when they were alone.

"Yeah, I'm okay," Trunks responded with a shrug, before raising an eyebrow. "Are you?"

"Of course. Your father and I-" Bulma started, before hesitating to choose her words. She finally settled on, "We're just having a little disagreement. It's nothing."

"It didn't sound like it was nothing," he muttered, unconvinced.

"It is," she insisted. "I'm sorry you had to hear some of that."

Trunks frowned. His mother had never apologized to him before for any argument she had with his father. Instead of being reassured, he was starting to realize that things weren't quite right between his parents. He shrugged carelessly, looking indifferent, making Bulma sigh as he reminded her of Vegeta. She couldn't resist, and pulled him into a hug.

"Ugh, _Mom_," Trunks groaned, looking around and making sure no one else could see. But when he was certain that he was in the clear, he gently returned her embrace.

"Go play your game, hon. The food should be here soon. Then we can all eat. I know you must be hungry."

"Yeah," Trunks agreed, before pulling away and looking up at her. "Dad's gonna eat too, right?"

"Of course he is," Bulma reassured him with a strained smile. "And if he doesn't want to eat with everyone else, maybe you can join him upstairs, and you guys can eat together."

Trunks brightened at that, and gave an eager nod. "Yeah, that'd be cool."

Thirty minutes later, Trunks was heading upstairs to do just that, easily juggling two enormous brown paper bags on each of his shoulders filled with the city's best Chinese food. He followed his father's ki signature, though it was unusually low for Vegeta. Frowning in concern, the boy picked up his pace a little bit, and then his concern worsened when he sensed that Vegeta was in _his _room. The only times his father went into his room was when Trunks was in big trouble. The boy gulped a bit, hoping that wasn't the case now.

Trunks nudged the door to his room open to find Vegeta sitting down at the edge of his bed, looking deep in thought. The prince had his head down, one hand rubbing the back of his neck, but he immediately looked up when Trunks entered.

"Hey Dad. I brought us food. Just for me and you."

"Hn."

"What are you doing in here?"

"Nothing," Vegeta grumbled, keeping to himself the fact that he knew Bulma would never look for him there. Then again, she didn't seem to be looking for him at the moment, so it didn't seem to matter. "What kind of food?"

"Chinese. Mom snuck us all the egg rolls."

"Get that shit off your desk and bring it over here so we can eat."

Trunks did as he was told, and several minutes later, father and son were sitting next to each other again on the boy's bed, using Trunks' desk in front of them as a makeshift dinner table. Trunks was inhaling his food; his mother had been right, he was starving. But Vegeta was eating at such a normal, human pace, that Trunks couldn't help but speak out in concern.

"Dad, are you sick or something?"

"No," Vegeta answered, frowning a bit. "Why?"

"You're barely eating, and I dunno." Trunks shrugged. "Your ki feels kinda weird to me."

"Hn. Probably just from being wished back to life," Vegeta grumbled, even though he knew that his emotions were starting to affect his ki. He hadn't even noticed, but now that Trunks had mentioned it, he forced himself to steady his ki back to its normal levels.

Trunks suddenly began eating slower at the reminder of his father dying, scowling as he poked at some of his food with his chopsticks. It brought back a mix of emotions that he couldn't pin down, but he knew that one of them was anger. Try as he could to ignore it, he found that he couldn't stop it from bubbling up now.

"You shouldn't have knocked me out, you know," Trunks blurted out, immediately getting Vegeta's full attention. But the boy was bitterly glaring down at his plate. It was always easier to address his father when there was no eye contact. "You should have let me fight. I'm strong enough to fight, and if you had let me and Goten help, you probably wouldn't have…you know. Died or whatever."

Vegeta inwardly sighed, putting his chopsticks down. He had suddenly lost his appetite.

"Trunks…"

"I'm not a little kid," Trunks insisted. "I can fight too, just like everyone else. Goten and I can fuse, and we can even go Super Saiyan 3!"

"But you couldn't do that at the time," Vegeta calmly pointed out.

Trunks growled a little bit, before spitting out, "So! So what? You still should've- you didn't- you didn't have to lie to me-" his voice broke, and so he promptly closed his mouth as his face flushed red in embarrassment.

"Lie to you?" Vegeta blinked a bit in astonishment. He tried replaying everything he'd said lately to his son, but was drawing a blank on anything that was a lie that would upset the boy. "What the hell are you talking about? When did I-"

"When you told me that you were proud of me. You just said that to get me off guard, didn't you?" Trunks accused, rendering his father completely speechless. "So I wouldn't see the hit coming. You lied to me, and then you…then you died -"

"Wait a minute," Vegeta interrupted, shaking his head. "You think what I told you was a lie?"

"Well, _yeah! _You've never said anything like that to me before! You're the one that always told me that you say anything and do anything to win a fight, and—well, I could've blocked your hit if I had been paying attention!" Trunks yelled, unable to bottle his emotion up. When he was met with complete silence, he snorted, and pushed the desk back as he got back up to his feet. "Whatever! I'm just going back downstairs-"

Vegeta's hand shot out and grabbed Trunks by the arm, and Trunks had barely registered the movement before he was whirled back around and roughly pulled over so he was standing in front of his father. The boy swallowed a bit, suddenly reconsidering whether or not he could have avoided a knockout blow from Vegeta on the battlefield, even if he had been prepared for it.

Vegeta glared at his son for a moment, and then relaxed his grip on his arm. Finally, he let go altogether, and sighed. He knew how Trunks felt. Had he been put into a similar situation at eight years old, he would've felt exactly the same way.

"Listen, boy. I know that you're an excellent fighter, but I don't regret taking you and Goten out of that fight. It wasn't your fight, and I couldn't risk it. I know that you don't understand, and I don't expect you to understand until you have children of your own one day. But what I did was for the best. It's my job to protect you, and one day, perhaps you'll see that."

Trunks shifted uncomfortably, lowering his eyes. "Fine, I guess," he conceded quietly, before scowling. "But still! You didn't have to-"

"I didn't lie to you. Look at me, son," Vegeta ordered, waiting until Trunks did. The boy was wearing the same look in his eyes that Bulma had earlier, and it brought a wave of guilt over him. It hadn't been easy seeing Bulma look at him that way, but seeing it from Trunks was unbearable. "I didn't tell you that because I was trying to distract you from the blow that was coming. I told you that because I didn't want to die before I could tell you the truth."

Trunks considered his words for a moment, and hesitantly asked, "You meant it then?"

"Of course I did. I'm very proud of you."

Trunks looked back down, trying to remain indifferent, but he couldn't help the small smile tugging on his lips. "Thanks, Dad."

"You have to trust people, Trunks, when they tell you things like that. I don't…" Vegeta paused, searching for the right words, before settling on, "I don't want you to be like me. Not trusting anyone wears on you, kid. Believe me," he distantly added. Trunks frowned, not quite understanding what his father meant by that, but Vegeta nodded towards the desk of food behind him. "Now I don't know about you, but I don't care for cold food."

"Oh, right." Trunks turned back to the food behind him.

He quickly sat down next to Vegeta again, pulling the table back to them. They both went back to their meal, eating quietly even as the sound of laughter from downstairs reached them, but Vegeta's mind was elsewhere. Between his son and his wife, he certainly had his hands full. Not that he was surprised. The woman had a temper that could match his own, and they had both passed their fire down to their son. Still, he wished they had let him get some sleep before engaging him in these exhausting conversations.

Trunks looked up when Bulma opened the door. She looked them both over, and addressed her son directly.

"Hey Trunks, just wanted to tell you that everyone's starting a Wii tournament downstairs, if you want to come down and play when you're done."

"Oh yeah! Definitely," Trunks eagerly agreed with a grin. Bulma shifted her gaze to her husband, but he kept his eyes on his food. He had yet to even acknowledge her presence. She pursed her lips angrily, and then walked back out, closing the door behind her and barely resisting the urge to slam it. Trunks looked at the door for a bit, and then looked over at Vegeta. "She's mad at you, huh?" he knowingly asked. His father shrugged with indifference, but Trunks was undeterred. "Is it about what you guys were arguing about?"

"The discussions I have with your mother are none of your business."

"I know, but, well…you should tell her you're sorry, otherwise she'll kick you out of your room again."

Vegeta glared at him. "Your mother's never _kicked me out_. I sometimes choose to sleep elsewhere."

"Oh, okay," Trunks easily agreed, keeping to himself the fact that he heard Bulma loudly telling Vegeta to get out of their room every few months or so. It was clockwork; they would fight, she would kick him out, and by the next night, the prince was back in their bedroom, and the couple would do their "private training" together that always made his father's ki fluctuate so rhythmically (though Trunks didn't understand why he was never invited to those training sessions).

"Well, you should talk to her anyways," Trunks continued. "Maybe if you guys tried not yelling, it wouldn't be so bad."

"You think so?"

"Yeah, cause both of you suck at listening when you're yelling."

"Watch your mouth, boy," Vegeta warned.

"Alriiiight, I'm just saying."

"Eat more, say less."

Meanwhile, Bulma was downstairs with everyone else, and was currently in a boxing fight with Gohan on the Wii. And she was losing. Growling, she exclaimed, "Ugh, this isn't fair! I need to play a human I match up with…Yamcha, get up here and fight me."

"I don't know if I should be flattered or offended," Yamcha joked while everyone laughed.

"Oooh, I want to play against Gohan!" Goten eagerly shouted, raising his hand up like he was in school. "Can I play, please, please-"

"Sure thing! Good luck," Bulma said, laughing as she tossed Goten the remote.

"I play winner!" Trunks announced as he charged down the stairs. He leapt over the rail and ran over to see better. Coming down behind him was Vegeta, though the prince's pace was leisurely compared to his son's. Bulma was genuinely surprised at the sight of him. She thought for sure that he would keep to himself, but was pleased that he was there, even if she was still mad at him.

"Hey, Vegeta," Goku jokingly called out to the prince, drawing Vegeta's attention. "Is this boxing game your training secret?"

"Figured me out, Kakarot," Vegeta deadpanned. He scanned everyone over, and then settled his gaze on Bulma. He subtly motioned for her to follow him, and then walked over to the front door, leaving the compound altogether. He waited outside by himself for a while, but finally, Bulma came out of the door too.

"I don't want to fight with you right now, Vegeta," she bluntly told him. "So if that's all you wanted-"

"I don't want to fight with you either," the prince admitted, and for the first time, she heard how tired he was. "I've had enough battles to last me a long time."

Bulma nodded slowly, and they fell into an awkward silence. They were only a few feet apart, but it certainly didn't feel like that.

"You want to get out of here?" Vegeta suddenly asked. Bulma looked at him in surprise, clearly not expecting that, but then she shook her head.

"No, we have company."

"They'll get along fine without us for a while. Some of those fools have good hearing and are too nosy for their own good anyways."

He then extended his hand towards her, and waited. Bulma hesitated, glancing back over her shoulder towards the compound. She turned back to her husband, and then reached out to take his hand. Vegeta grasped her hand, gently pulling her closer to him until they were right against each other, her chest against his. Bulma put her arms around his neck to grab on, and he put one arm securely around her. He bent his knees a little, and then they both shot up into the air.

When Vegeta's speed finally settled down, and she was certain that she was standing on firm ground, Bulma looked around, her hands lowering to his shoulders. When she saw where they were, she instantly grabbed two tight fistfuls of Vegeta's shirt, pulling herself as close to him as possible.

"Holy crap, Vegeta!" she breathed, worriedly looking down. They were on a ledge of rock on an enormous mountain, and less than a yard away from her was a dropoff that meant certain death. "We're so high up!"

"I usually go up higher. But this is a comfortable height for you. It's safe," Vegeta assured her, though the sensation of her being so close to him wasn't unwelcomed in the least. He frowned as she disengaged from him, her fear giving way to curiosity. When she finally stopped analyzing just how high they were and looked up, her breath caught in her throat.

"Wow," Bulma whispered, taking in the scenery of the mountain range they were in, illuminated by the sunset. "It's gorgeous here."

"It's better when you're higher," Vegeta quietly said, glancing up towards the top of the mountain and remembering the first time he'd visited this mountain, before Trunks was born. How long he had agonized over leaving Earth for good and letting the androids wreck the planet. If he would've had the ability back then to glimpse the future…

He had visited this exact place frequently after Cell's defeat. It calmed him, helped him clear his mind. He hoped that would be the case again tonight. Looking back at her profile, Vegeta waited for her to say something, or to look at him. She was either thoroughly enjoying the view, or ignoring him. Maybe a little of both. His son had been right. Letting her dwell inside her own thoughts would have been his worst course of action. It was best they clear the air now, with no yelling. Hopefully.

"You're still angry with me."

Bulma looked back at him, and he saw the hurt in her clear blue eyes again, plain as day. He fought the urge to look away. "I know everything worked out in the end, but…"

"I know." Vegeta swallowed, as though swallowing down his pride. "I did…what I thought I needed to do. But I was wrong. I should have never… It will never happen again. I'm sorry."

It was his first time genuinely saying those words to her, and it instantly soothed away that sting of betrayal and hurt she felt. That was what she needed to know the most; that he regretted his choice. That their years together mattered to him. Bulma studied his eyes for a bit, and then reached for his hand. Vegeta stepped up and took it, looking relieved.

"I'm sorry too," she conceded, interlacing their fingers together. "I shouldn't have come at you like that either."

He shrugged. "It's fine."

"I've just been a little, I don't know. Not fully rational when it comes to you lately, I guess. I…felt when you died," Bulma admitted with difficulty, earning a surprised look from him.

"What do you mean?" Vegeta asked, his brow furrowing in confusion. "Felt it? How?"

"I don't know. I can't explain it," Bulma sighed, struggling to describe that moment. "Just this feeling I had. I knew it was you, and I knew it was bad. But I ignored it, you know…but then I found out from Goku, and…" Bulma's voice wavered, but it quickly steadied when she suddenly punched him square in the chest with her free hand, as hard as she could possibly manage. Vegeta didn't move a millimeter, but his eyes widened in surprise. "You can't do that to me ever again! You're going to die a little, wrinkled old man, you hear me?"

"I'm not the one here that's in danger of getting wrinkles, female. Look, I already see some here," Vegeta teased, brushing his thumb under her eye before her tears could fall. "Perhaps there was some kind of bond formed between us after all, that I wasn't aware of…though there's no reason to shed tears over it. I certainly didn't cry when I found out _you_ died."

"Oh, shut up," Bulma sniffed, shaking her throbbing hand. "It's just my damn hand that hurts. It's like you're carved out of stone, holy crap."

"Your own damn fault. No one told you to punch me," he scoffed.

"Always such a caring husband," she sighed, though that hurt was gone now from her eyes. She even offered him a small smile, but Vegeta was scowling as he contemplated her words. He knew that she was joking, but she surely hadn't been joking earlier when she asked if he cared. That question probably wouldn't have bothered him before all this went down with Buu, but it had earlier. And thinking about it now bothered him too. He watched her while she studied her knuckles for bruises.

"It was for you, just so you know," he finally confessed, his expression serious when Bulma looked back up at him in surprise.

"What was?"

"Using that self-destruct technique against Buu. It didn't work, since the freak still lived. But I did it for you and Trunks, and I would do it again if I had to. Isn't that proof enough for you, of how much I care…of how much I…" His voice failed him.

"I know. I love you, too," she whispered, before leaning in to kiss him.

Vegeta eagerly responded by pulling her up against him, enjoying the feel of her hands, the sweetness of her kiss, the softness of her body. His hellish ordeal finally seemed worth it, not because Earth was intact and saved; but rather, because Bulma was alive and with him, and so was Trunks. They were worth dying for a thousand times if need be.

Bulma grabbed onto his shoulders tightly as his hand slowly crept up her inner thigh, brushing her dress up, feeling like it was leaving fire behind. He broke their kiss and moved down to her jaw, then her neck. All the while, his words repeated themselves over and over again in her mind. She had thought his self-destruction was only a battle strategy, the best thing he could come up with to take down Buu, and that his family had been the furthest thing from his mind at the time. But to know that he was willing to literally go to hell and back for her and their son…the same man who had once rejected Trunks, rejected _her…_there were no words for it. Fortunately, they didn't need words.

"Vegeta," she groaned a little when her husband bit down on her ear while his hand teased her. "The get-together…" she breathed, even though her fingers were already unbuttoning his shirt.

"The party's moved to Kakarot's residence, it seems," Vegeta growled in her ear as she spread his shirt open, her hands running over his hot skin. "They're all heading that way, Trunks too. We'll get the boy afterwards."

"Well, in _that _case…maybe we can get a little _private training_ in," Bulma teased.

Vegeta smirked a little and then lifted her up against him, hiking up her red dress while he did so she could wrap her legs around him. He turned them around and pressed her up against a wall of rock, undoing his pants at the same time. Moments later, and they were making love where only the stars could see.

Being alive again didn't get much better than this.


	2. Another chance

**A/N: Yes, Bra will be introduced in due time (it'd be cool to write her without her family being haunted and traumatized, lol). Thank you guys so much for the incredible support. Just you reading this, is much appreciated. :) Hope ya like.**

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><p>After Buu's defeat, life started going back to normal for the Earth's special forces. At Capsule Corp, everyone was especially eager to get back to the usual routine. Trunks went back to school, Bulma went back to work, and Vegeta went back to his training, as though nothing had transpired. But they couldn't erase what had happened, and the effect on the family was still there.<p>

Trunks had become more attentive with his mother in the following days, keeping his whining to a minimum whenever she asked him to do something. In those moments when she was alone with her son, Bulma saw a change in the boy that only a mother would see. She didn't know if it was his first taste of life-or-death battle, or going through the experience of losing his father – but whatever it was, Trunks seemed to be a little more appreciative of what he had. That was definitely one effect she hoped would last.

Mother and son were enjoying a quiet breakfast a week after Buu's defeat, a huge spread of food laid out on the table just for Trunks. The boy was eagerly wolfing down his food, but every so often, his eyes would drift over to the empty spot Vegeta usually occupied. He could easily pinpoint his father upstairs, still in his bedroom, and asleep by the low ki signature he was getting. Trunks scowled, slowing down the inhalation of his food to actually chew his omelet.

"Hey, Mom?"

"Yeah?" Bulma responded, picking up her mug of coffee while she checked her emails on her cell phone.

"Is Dad sick?"

That got his mother's full attention. "No, he's not," she honestly answered, giving him a confused look. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, cause he usually has breakfast with us, but ever since…ya know, all that stuff happened, he hasn't been. Are you _sure_ he's not sick?"

"Your father's fine, Trunks. He'll be joining us again before you know it," Bulma assured him. Trunks looked visibly relieved. He contemplated her words for a moment, and then brightened.

"So if Dad's fine, do you think I should remind him that he promised me a surprise if I won the junior division at the tournament?" he eagerly asked.

Bulma blinked a little bit, having completely forgotten about that. Of course, Vegeta's response had been dripping with sarcasm when Trunks asked him what his prize would be if he won the tournament. Unfortunately, Trunks didn't always pick up on his father's sarcasm and had taken his answer quite literally. Not wanting to burst her son's bubble, Bulma hadn't told Trunks that his father wasn't serious. After all, she figured she would find out a way to force her husband into keeping his word. And there was no time like the present.

"You know what? You should definitely remind him when you come back from school. I'm sure he has something exciting planned."

"Cool," Trunks said with a grin, turning his attention back to his food. He shoved about five pieces of toast into his mouth and then chugged down his tenth glass of juice. Lowering his glass, he stood up and hastily brushed at his face. "Alright, gotta go."

"You better go straight to school, no stopping to see Goten like you did yesterday morning," Bulma warned, looking pointedly at him.

"You know about that?" Trunks sheepishly asked.

"As long as I'm breathing, you better believe I'll know everything you're up to, Trunks Briefs. Yesterday was your freebie. If I find out you did it again, your father will be escorting you to school every morning. And you know that he'll be a ray of sunshine doing it."

Trunks forced a chuckle. "No detours to see Goten. Got it. See you later!" he called out, before vanishing from the room in a blur. He shot up the stairs to his room, got his things ready in fractions of a second, and then the front door closed as he took off for school.

Alone at the table now, Bulma looked down at her coffee, trying to keep the concern off her features. She hadn't lied to her son when she said Vegeta wasn't ill, but there was still something off with her husband. For one thing, he seemed to be completely exhausted, and no amount of sleep seemed to be enough. For a man who was always up to train when the sun rose, Vegeta sleeping in so late and so frequently was more than a bit unusual. If she didn't know for a fact that Dende had healed him, she would've suspected a lingering head injury. She hadn't commented on it, thinking it would go away after a few days, but it was going on a week now with no change. It was probably time to start commenting.

Vegeta was sound asleep in bed, oblivious to the woman sitting next to him and intently studying him. Sprawled out on his back, he didn't stir when Bulma put a hand to his forehead. But when she moved her hand down to the side of his neck, Vegeta's hand shot out and grasped hers instinctively, and she found herself looking into his tired and bleary eyes.

"Hey hon, sorry I woke you," she whispered apologetically.

"What the hell were you trying to do, female? Strangle me in my sleep?" Vegeta grumbled, releasing her hand.

"Buddy, if I ever decide to kill you in your sleep, you'll never wake up again," Bulma retorted, moving closer to him. Vegeta snorted and closed his eyes, trying to fall asleep again. But it was impossible when he felt her leaning over him and watching him.

A low growl started deep in his throat, before Vegeta finally opened his eyes and snarled out, "Infernal wench. Can't you let a man sleep?"

"You know, you've been sleeping a ton since everything happened with Buu," Bulma mused aloud, studying her husband's tired features. "That's definitely not the masochistic man I married. Are you sure Dende fully healed you?" she pressed, leaning down close to his face to examine his dark eyes for any sign of a concussion.

The prince inwardly groaned, reaching up to rub his eyes. Unfortunately, ever since Buu's defeat, his wife and son had both suddenly become overprotective of him, much to his chagrin. A sneeze during dinner one night, and Trunks was asking him if he was gravely ill and on the verge of death. A slight limp from training one afternoon, and Bulma was already ordering x-rays for him. Vegeta was trying his best to be patient with their unnecessary concern, knowing that his death was still very fresh on their minds. Since he didn't have the first clue how to truly put their minds at ease, all he could do was wait it out.

"Yes, the boy healed me," Vegeta deadpanned. He then turned onto his side, purposely giving her his back while he sneered, "He might need to heal _you _as well, if you wake me up again to pester me with such nonsense."

"Always a morning person," Bulma chuckled, feeling at ease with his response. She leaned down to kiss his bare shoulder, before seductively whispering in his ear, "I bet you wouldn't be whining if I woke you up to _pester_ you with some dirty sex."

Vegeta fell silent for a few seconds, before questioning, "How dirty?"

"_Very_ dirty."

"Your description is far too vague. I believe a demonstration is in order," he suggestively responded.

"Sadly, I have an important meeting I need to prep for. We'll take a rain check on that demo."

"Hn. I'll remember that."

"I'm sure you will. Anyways, I saved you some breakfast downstairs, for when your royal butt finally decides to get out of bed," she teased, kissing his cheek. Vegeta rolled his eyes, and didn't bother responding as Bulma got out of their bed and headed back out of the room.

Try as he might, Vegeta couldn't go back to sleep afterwards. Rolling onto his back, the prince stared up at the ceiling for a long time. Contrary to what Bulma thought, he wasn't getting much sleep at all. He was simply leaving their room when she fell asleep, and then coming back in before the sun rose. That way, he wouldn't disturb her with his restless tossing and turning, and he wouldn't worry her. Though it seemed he hadn't been successful with the second. Grumbling to himself a bit, the prince threw off his blankets and got out of bed to get himself some breakfast.

A few hours later, Vegeta was in the gravity room, though he wasn't doing any training. The prince was sitting down, reclining back against the wall, his thoughts going back to the moments surrounding his death just days ago. Unlike his first bout with death, where his memories of the afterlife had been nothing but a blur of physical pain afterwards, this time his memories were crystal clear. And consequently, much harder to ignore. He had easily blocked it all out while battling Buu, but his mind frequently went back to that place now that he had downtime. Try as he could not to think about it, he couldn't help but do just that.

He was so lost in his own brooding thoughts, that he didn't realize Bulma was outside of the gravity room, banging on the door and calling for him. It wasn't until she activated the emergency override that she got his attention. Vegeta glanced over as Bulma stalked inside and put her hands on her hips while she glared daggers at him.

"Did you not hear me calling you?" she demanded in exasperation. "I was calling for you for like three minutes! I thought you had passed out in here or something!"

Vegeta shrugged with indifference and looked away. Bulma exhaled slowly while she looked her husband over. He was dressed in his blue spandex pants and white boots to train, but there wasn't a drop of sweat on him. Come to think of it, she hadn't heard the gravity simulator powering down before the door opened for her.

"Have you just been sitting there all morning?" Bulma asked him in confusion.

The prince scowled. "What do you want?"

"Catering just got here. I thought maybe you and I could have a nice lunch together."

"You eat. I'm not hungry right now."

Bulma frowned in concern. Vegeta's appetite hadn't quite been the same since he was brought back to life. It was a change she noticed and didn't like one bit. Instead of eating like a Saiyan, the man was suddenly eating like a normal human. He wasn't starving, but it still wasn't enough for him.

"Are you _sure _you're okay?" Bulma pressed after a moment of studying him. "You've never turned down-"

"I'm fine. Go eat."

She sighed. As long as the man had air in his lungs, he was "fine" by his standard. She wasn't convinced, but she let it go for now.

"Alright, whatever you say. Oh, and I forgot to tell you earlier, but you remember when you promised Trunks you'd give him a surprise if he won the junior division at the martial arts tournament?" Vegeta grunted absent-mindedly, even though he had already zoned out. "Yeah, I forgot too. But I'm just letting you know, he's looking to cash in. So think of something we can do or give him, and make it good."

"Fine," Vegeta replied with indifference. She could tell by the look in his eyes that he had barely heard a word she'd said.

"Alright, what the hell's going on, Vegeta?" Bulma finally demanded, getting his full attention for the first time since she got there.

"_Now _what are you rambling about, woman?" the prince growled.

"Something is on your mind, and I'm not leaving until you tell me what."

"Fine. I was thinking how nice it was when I was alone in my space pod," he sneered. "At least it was quiet-"

"Nice try, but I'm still waiting."

"You are being ridiculous-"

"Still waiting, sweetheart," Bulma cut in, folding her arms over her chest.

"Did you not hear what I said?" Vegeta snarled in frustration. "I'm fine. There is nothing to tell-"

"Save the spiel for someone who doesn't know you."

He scoffed. "Female, you don't know me."

"Oh, I _know _you, buddy boy. And this isn't the first time you've zoned out on me over the last week. So just tell me."

"And if I don't?" Vegeta challenged.

"Ah, so there _is _something to tell," Bulma triumphantly concluded, lowering her hands back to her hips. Vegeta blinked in surprise, and then his features settled into a hard glare as he looked away. He said nothing when he felt his wife sitting down next to him, and did nothing when he felt her eyes on him.

"Is it bad?" Bulma asked after a moment of silence. Vegeta shook his head. "Then why won't you tell me?"

"Because you seem to be under the impression that just because I died, I'm somehow made of glass now."

"I don't think you're made of glass. Stone, maybe," she joked, poking his steel-hard bicep. Vegeta rolled his eyes and shook his head. "I know I've been a little paranoid with you, Vegeta, but you died, and since then, you haven't exactly been your normal self. Can you blame me?"

Vegeta considered her words for a moment, before grumbling, "I haven't been oversleeping."

"You've been getting up then," Bulma concluded. It was the only logical conclusion. His restless sleep patterns always woke her up, after all. She moved a little closer to him. "Why?"

He was silent for almost an entire minute before responding. "I don't remember the first time I died, what it was like on the other side. Just that there was always constant pain. That was my punishment, I suppose. Nothing but physical pain. It felt like it went on for decades…" Vegeta lapsed into silence again, falling into thought as Bulma carefully studied him. He didn't look distressed, but rather, had a look on his face like he was trying to figure something out.

"Was it like that again the second time around?"

He snorted. "I wish it had been. But I got a different punishment this time. This time, I relived my life while serving Frieza. Every last beating, every last kill, every last moment…like I was there all over again. It always ended when I left to come to Earth, and then it started again, from the moment my father handed me over. The loop was only broken when I was summoned to help fight against Buu. Otherwise, I'm certain it would've gone on for all eternity."

Bulma knew it was irrational to feel angry over hearing that. After all, she knew that her husband wasn't an innocent man. Who was she, a mere mortal human woman, to claim that his punishment had been unfair? Still, she couldn't help it. In her eyes, Vegeta had lost his evil edge a long time ago. She reached out to put her hand on his knee.

"That's terrible-"

"It's not, so don't pity me because of it," he gruffly cut in. "It's less than what I deserve, and I don't mind the punishment. I do, however, have a problem with some of the memories."

"What do you mean?"

"I saw things in the afterlife, where if I didn't have physical scars left over, I would never believe I actually lived through. I apparently blocked out those memories a long time ago."

"So that's what's been bothering you? That you forgot things that happened years ago?"

"These aren't small and trivial events, Bulma. These blocked memories all included some of the worst, most cruel things I've ever…" Vegeta's voice trailed off, and he was briefly lost to a haze of memories so violent, he could hear the screams and smell the blood. He shook his head to snap out of it, hissing in frustration, "They're things I should have never forgotten in the first place! Who knows what other things I can't remember? What if we come across an old enemy and I can't remember encountering them before? Then the entire planet will be compromised-"

"Vegeta, honey, you're getting way ahead of yourself. You'll drive yourself crazy thinking like this. There are no old enemies here to worry about, and it's okay if you don't remember every last thing you went through."

"It's _not _okay, foolish woman. Even if there is no enemy threat, I'd like intact memories so I can be better prepared the next time I'm scheduled to suffer for all eternity."

"For all you know, you might not even be punished next time you die." Vegeta cast her a look of pure disgust, and Bulma exclaimed, "I'm serious!"

The prince just shook his head in disbelief. "It truly amazes me that you can be so intelligent and so idiotic at the same time."

"I'm not idiotic, bud, I'm freaking _brilliant. _In fact, I already have a plan that'll solve all your problems and put your mind at ease."

"Is that a fact? And what is this brilliant plan?"

"Simple. We gather the Dragon Balls, and wish for immortality. No one dies, problem solved," Bulma smugly announced. Vegeta looked away from her, trying to look indifferent, but he was fighting back a smile. "It'll be flawless. You, me, and Trunks. The three of us can live forever, rule the planet, make everyone our slaves. You know, all that fun, evil stuff. Oh, it'd be so great – I could always see new technological innovations over the centuries! And I would be gorgeous forever-"

"Woman, you're completely insane," the prince snorted, barely able to rein in his laughter. Bulma smiled and moved over so that she was straddling him, making Vegeta instinctively settle his hands on her hips.

"You don't want to take over this planet with me? I'm a little offended, Vegeta."

"I'd rather let Buu take over, to be honest," he deadpanned. "It'd be less frightening for the rest of the Earthlings than having you in charge."

"Jackass," Bulma chuckled. Vegeta smirked while he slowly moved his hands up and down her legs, his eyes on her breasts like a predator considering his next meal. Bulma ran her hands down his perfect physique, loving the way his muscles flexed under her fingers. She finally worked her hands back up to his face, making him look back up at her.

"Stop overanalyzing so much," she whispered against his lips. "Bottom line is that you got another chance. Whatever happens when you die again is going to happen. Right now, this might be all we get, so don't waste it."

Vegeta grunted his agreement. "Fine, but _you_ need to stop acting like death is around the corner for me, and I'm some weak fool who can't avoid it. I'm alive and I plan on remaining that way for a long time."

Bulma laughed huskily, shifting a little on his crotch. "Oh yeah, you're alive alright."

"Vulgar woman," Vegeta growled while he started sliding up her blouse. "How long do you have for lunch?"

"Just under an hour. Why, you want to have lunch with me now?" she teased, helping him remove her blouse and leaving her in a snug red bra that left little to the imagination. Vegeta smirked and licked his lips as his eyes roamed over her body.

"Depends what's on the menu…"

* * *

><p>Later that day, Vegeta was feeling much better – something he attributed more to his afternoon session with Bulma than to his actual conversation with her. Regardless, he was sitting in the library of Capsule Corp, reclining against the window. It had become a side project of his to read through all of the books in the impressive library to learn more about the culture on Earth. Despite living on the planet for a decade, there was always something new to learn. And at the moment, it was a welcomed distraction.<p>

He heard the door slam downstairs, and then began a silent countdown. _Five…four…three…two…_

Trunks burst into the library, immediately charging over to his father and dumping his bookbag on the first table he saw. "Hey Dad! Guess what?"

The prince grunted in acknowledgement, putting aside his book on sharks to look at his son. "I don't _guess_, boy."

Trunks blinked a bit. "Oh. Right. Well, I got an A on my math quiz! Isn't that awesome? It was SO easy, it was pretty much a joke."

"Hn. Good." Vegeta shifted over so that he was sitting on the window ledge, facing his son. "So, your mother tells me that I have a promise to keep with you, since you won the tournament."

Trunks visibly brightened, nodding. "Uh huh. You promised a surp-"

"I know what I promised. And you must know that I don't do well coming up with surprises in anything that's not battle-related. So you can choose what you want as your reward."

Looking like he had fully been expecting to hear that, Trunks smirked. "I can have ANYTHING I want?"

"Within reason," Vegeta growled. "I have to approve, and so does your mo-"

"I want to go on a vacation!" Trunks excitedly blurted out.

"…A _vacation_," Vegeta blandly repeated.

"Yeah, a vacation! Almost everyone else in school has been on a real vacation, like going to see stuff and taking sweet pictures and riding awesome rides. But we've never gone on a vacation and I want to go! It sounds really cool."

Vegeta reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose, forcing himself to be patient. "Trunks, you can fly fast enough to traverse the entire planet multiple times during a bathroom break at school. Where could you possibly want to go visit?"

"Yeah, that's a real good question, Dad," Trunks chuckled, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck. "So the other day, I was hanging out with Goten, Gohan, and Piccolo at Goten's house. And Gohan and Piccolo were talking about a planet called Namek. Goten says that Gohan told him that you all went there a long time ago, so I was thinking-"

"No."

"But-!"

"No."

"DAD, you're not even letting me talk!" Trunks whined.

"Fine. Speak then."

"We don't have to go to NAMEK, but, I thought it'd be really, really cool if we could go somewhere else?"

"Somewhere else?" Vegeta repeated, his eyes narrowing. "_Define_ somewhere else."

"Somewhere else in space, besides Namek. Another planet or something-"

"No."

"But why not?" Trunks demanded. "Gohan was around my age when he went to Namek and he got to go!"

"What exactly do you know about that trip to Namek, boy?"

Trunks frowned in thought, biting his bottom lip. "Uh…you guys went to Namek to get the Dragon Balls, and you brought back Dende, and now he watches over Earth and stuff. Erm…that's all I know."

"Who told you that?"

"No one. I've just heard stuff, when Piccolo and Gohan are talking."

"That's all you know?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure that's it."

Vegeta stared hard at the boy in front of him, but Trunks had never once been able to lie to his face and get away with it. The boy was just like his mother in that regard - completely transparent. Finally, the prince was satisfied that his son had told him the truth. He picked up his book again, and shifted back to recline against the glass, opening his book on his lap.

"We are not going out to space, so think of something else."

Trunks' features fell in disappointment. "But why not?"

"Because I said so."

"That's not fair though!"

Vegeta growled a little in warning. "Watch how you talk to me, boy, before I put you through this window. I said no and that's final. Come up with something else, or don't and get nothing. I'm fine either way."

Trunks scowled, and then turned around, picking up his bookbag and walking out of there in a sulk. Moments later, the prince heard the door to his son's room slamming loudly. Vegeta rolled his eyes and went back to reading his book, and soon, forgot about the exchange entirely.

Bulma didn't need to be a genius to figure out that something was wrong later that night. For one, Trunks had given nothing but one-word answers to her over dinner, sulking while he ate. Vegeta had eaten a good amount, which was a good sign, but he seemed far more interested in his food than figuring out what was wrong with their son. That of course meant that he knew the reason behind the boy's poor mood. Now the prince was scrolling through channels on the TV, and Trunks was glaring down at his homework at the dinner table. But no matter how many times Bulma asked Trunks what was wrong, she got "nothing" back as her answer. When the boy wanted to, he could be just as stubborn as his parents combined.

When Trunks headed upstairs to get more supplies, Bulma went over and sat down next to her husband on the sofa. Vegeta had been zoned out, but he snapped out of it when she sat with him.

"What's wrong with Trunks? And don't tell me it's nothing, or I will disable the gravity room for a month."

It took a moment for Vegeta to remember his conversation with his son, and then he rolled his eyes, looking back at the TV. "He is being a brat. I made him a fair offer, and he is behaving like a child."

"Vegeta, Trunks is eight years old. He _is _a child."

The prince glared at her. "Don't defend him."

"How is that defending him? It's the truth!"

"I told him he could have whatever he wanted, within reason. He said he wants to go on a vacation."

"What's wrong with that? That's actually a really great idea," Bulma said as she brightened. "I think that'd be really good for all three of us. Get away from everything. Clear our minds a bit. Get everything around here back to normal-"

"Woman, he wants to go into _space. _He's heard about us going to Namek, though he knows little to nothing about the true circumstances. He wants a similar adventure."

It only took a second for Bulma to see the reason for Trunks' mood. "Well, you're both strong, Vegeta. I think it would be okay-"

"Are you insane?" Vegeta hissed. "We can't just venture off exploring random planets. I have no idea what the situation in space is like now. If some empires even got an _inkling _that I might still be alive, they would wipe out this entire galaxy. We would never even get a chance to fight back before they blew us into space dust, and that would be a kind fate. You said earlier that I have no old enemies to worry about? Well, I would like it to stay that way."

Bulma checked for signs of her son, before whispering, "I understand what you're saying, but Trunks doesn't know about any of that…maybe if you sat down with him, and explained-"

"No," Vegeta roughly interrupted.

"You said you would tell him the truth one day."

"That day is _not_ today."

There was no room for argument in Vegeta's terse voice, and Bulma knew that she would not win this one. That inevitable conversation had to come from her husband, not from her, and so she relented.

"Alright, well, we'll compromise. How about we tell him he can pick anywhere he wants to visit on the planet, and we bring Goten along with us?"

"You must be joking." Vegeta studied his wife's eyes, saw that she was serious, and then he leaned his head back and inwardly groaned. He barely even wanted to go on a vacation with just Trunks and Bulma, much less with Goten tagging along. "Why can't that fool Kakarot take his mini clone fishing while we're gone? Why must that damn boy _always_ be with us whenever we do something?"

"Because he's Trunks' best friend, Vegeta. And, if we don't invite him along, he might ask Chi-Chi and Goku to go on a vacation with us. Then we'll all go, two families vacationing together-"

"Stop it, woman. I just ate recently."

"It's settled then?" Bulma asked with a smile. Vegeta just shook his head in defeat, picking up the remote to the TV as he proceeded to ignore her. She took that as a yes, and called loudly for her son.

A heartbeat later, and they both heard his racing footsteps, before Trunks finally ran over to them. The boy gave his father a glance, but Vegeta was ignoring both of them now in favor for animals being ripped into bloody pieces on the TV. Trunks then turned his attention back to his mother.

"Your father and I talked about the vacation idea, and we're going to make you a deal. You pick somewhere for us to go, on this planet, and we'll bring Goten along with us. Take it or leave it, kiddo."

Trunks frowned, but then nodded his acceptance. "We can go _anywhere_?"

Bulma gave him a knowing smile. "Where are you thinking?"

"One of my friends at school said his family went to Magic Ice for vacation."

"Magic Ice it is. I'll talk to Chi-Chi and see when's a good time for us to bring Goten along," Bulma agreed, making Trunks whoop in happiness before charging back up the stairs to call Goten and share the news.

"_Magic Ice_?" Vegeta echoed, frowning in confusion. "I didn't know there was real magic on this planet aside from the Dragon Balls."

"There's no magic involved, Vegeta," Bulma laughed, kissing him the cheek. "It's just a water themed vacation spot. A little touristy but it's okay. Kids love it. I'm sure we'll all have a good time."

"Hn."

"This will be good for us."

Vegeta nodded his agreement, and didn't breathe a word of complaint as Bulma leaned into his side. She had a point. All three of them needed something to rid all the adverse effects of the ordeal with Buu. A change of scenery for a few days was probably exactly what they needed – especially him. The prince resolved that he would go into the family vacation with a good attitude, and try his best not to dampen the experience for his family. After a few minutes of watching Bulma flip through the different channels, Vegeta relented and put his arm around his wife, much to Bulma's surprise and delight.

She was right. He had another chance, and this time, he was going to make it count.


	3. Magic Ice

It was mostly still dark outside, but there was a soft glow of light that was just starting to come out in the distance as the sun began to rise. A short time later, and it was starting to peek through the curtains of Bulma and Vegeta's bedroom. The couple was sound asleep, wrapped up in each other in only their second night of real sleep after the Buu ordeal. They were lying face to face, with Bulma hugging her husband around his waist as though she'd lose him again if she didn't. Vegeta's face was nestled in her hair so he'd be as close as possible to the soothing feminine scent that calmed his mind enough for him to rest.

They would've both remained undisturbed well into the morning, but their son had other plans.

Trunks suddenly barreled into his parents' bedroom half an hour later, startling both of his parents right out of their comfortable sleep. Bulma self-consciously grabbed at the covers, pulling them up over her chest while her husband squinted tiredly at their son.

"Good morning!" Trunks shouted happily, running straight towards the curtains.

Before Vegeta or Bulma could get a word out, the boy yanked the curtains open. The sun had now risen, and the bright light instantly poured in, making Vegeta growl angrily as Bulma covered herself completely in her blankets, with only parts of her blue hair showing. Trunks whirled around, grinning widely.

"You guys, it's time to get up! What're you guys still doing in bed, huh? The sun is up, come _on!"_

Vegeta sighed and rolled over in bed, burying his face into his pillow. "Woman, handle your son before I kill him," he mumbled.

"I have no son right now," Bulma groaned from underneath her blankets.

Trunks' grin slowly turned into a mean-looking scowl. He put his hands on his hips, leaning forward as he angrily informed his parents, "We're gonna be late if you two don't get up outta bed, and then we're gonna miss all the fun at Magic Ice!"

Bulma yawned slowly and lowered her blankets off her face, brushing her bangs out of her eyes. "What time is it anyways?" she asked, squinting over at the clock.

"Time to make Kakarot and his harpy wife adopt the annoying brat that's in our room," Vegeta grumbled into his pillow.

"Actually, it's 6 in the morning," Trunks corrected. He sighed dramatically, starting to wave his arms around as he wailed, "And by the time Mom puts all that makeup and stuff on her face it'll be like 10 freaking o'clock!"

Vegeta pressed his face further into his pillow, trying to stifle his laughter as Bulma sat up and gave her son a look that would have made other children cry. "First of all, you keep it up and we won't be going anywhere, young man," she warned him. "Second of all, it does NOT take me that long to get ready! Now get out so I can start getting dressed, or I'm going to start waking YOU up at 6 in the morning for school!"

"Tch!" Trunks exhaled in exasperation, turning on his heel and heading towards the door while mumbling under his breath, "Alriiiight, but I bet we'll still be here at 10…"

"I _heard_ that!" Bulma shouted, making Trunks quicken his pace and make his escape, closing the door to his parents' room behind him. Bulma huffed, glaring at the door. "I gotta drag that kid out of bed every morning for school, and he's up before the sun rises to go on a vacation, why I oughta…and just WHAT is so funny, you jerk?" she demanded, turning her attention to her husband who couldn't help the snort of laughter that escaped him.

"Your annoyance with the boy, considering my son is right," he mockingly informed her, his voice muffled by his pillow. "It always takes you half the day to get ready for any kind of event, which makes no sense, considering you still look hideous when you're done."

Vegeta easily blocked the swat aimed at the back of his head with one hand. He grabbed his wife's wrist and rolled over onto his back, hauling Bulma over with him and forcing her on top of him. He seized her other wrist before she could even think about raising her other hand against him, and flashed her an infuriating, triumphant smirk as she struggled in vain to free her hands from his strong grip.

"Weak female, I could end you any second I wanted," Vegeta arrogantly taunted. Bulma stopped her struggling, huffing once as she glared down at him. She ran her tongue over her teeth, and then offered him a coy smile.

"Is that right?" she teased, shifting and seductively spreading her body over his. Vegeta grunted, his eyes drifting closed when he felt Bulma's thigh suggestively rubbing against his crotch. "Not if I end you first," she whispered against his lips.

"You don't fight fair, woman," he growled.

"I learned from the best."

Vegeta reached up for her and pulled her down into a dominant kiss, sighing into it when she brought her hands up to his face. He slowly was turning them over so he could be on top, when they both heard a loud pounding on their door.

"Hey, I know what you guys are gonna start doing in there!" Trunks shouted, making Vegeta and Bulma both look over at the door in alarm. "You can't start your private training right now, Mom's gotta get ready! Plus, Goten just got here so you guys gotta hurry up!"

Vegeta groaned and lowered his head, resting his forehead on Bulma's shoulder. "Can I kill Kakarot's brat for being in my home this early? I'll include your son as well, free of charge."

"They're both just excited to go on a vacation. You know how they are," Bulma sighed, pushing at the Saiyan's shoulders so he would get off her. Vegeta reluctantly did, scowling as he rolled off her.

"When are we returning from this thing anyways?" he demanded.

Bulma shot Vegeta a look of exasperation. "Damn it, Vegeta, we haven't even left yet and you're already asking when we're going to come back home? Can't you wait until I've at least had my cup of coffee before you start whining?"

"I am not _whining_, damn woman," Vegeta growled, moving over so he was sitting on the opposite edge of the bed. "Asking when we'll return from this ridiculous trip is a legitimate question."

"We'll be there two days. The boys have school on Monday, after all. I already _told _you this, if you ever actually listened to me when I talk to you," she snapped at him, shooting his back a glare.

"Whatever," he gruffly replied with indifference, getting up to his feet. He walked over to the bathroom. "I'm going to take a shower first, since you'll undoubtedly need the entire morning to prepare yourself for this trip."

"I do NOT need all morning to get ready, you jerk," Bulma huffed, but Vegeta had already closed the door after him. She rolled her eyes, heading downstairs.

The coffee machine in the kitchen was just about halfway done when Bulma checked it. She double-checked that there was enough there for her and Vegeta, especially since her husband liked to down two cups before breakfast. She was just adjusting the settings to try to quicken the process, when she was startled half-to-death as Goku suddenly teleported into her kitchen right next to her. She cursed, spinning to face him, one hand on her chest.

"Holy crap, Goku," Bulma exhaled slowly, trying to get her heart to settle down. "I didn't know you were coming over. I ought to get you a cell phone so you can call first."

"Oh, yeah, sorry," Goku sheepishly said. "I felt that all of you guys were up, so I figured you were about ready to go."

"Oh yeah, I was just making myself and Vegeta some coffee. Then I was going to get everything together, then get myself ready, then we were going to go."

"Great! Do you think it'd be alright if I tagged along?" Goku asked with a wide grin. "A vacation sounds like it'd be a lot of fun!"

Bulma blinked a few times, visibly caught off guard. She sighed and smiled. "Sure, Goku, of course. You know you're always welcome, but I really wish you'd given me some notice. I already booked two hotel rooms for tonight, one for me and Vegeta, and one for the boys."

"Ah, that doesn't matter, I can figure that out. Maybe I can just crash with the boys."

"Tch, good luck with _that_," Bulma scoffed, finally pouring herself a hot cup of coffee. "Every time those two have a sleep over, they stay up half the night talking. Vegeta has to go in there and threaten them with bodily harm for them to lay down and go to sleep."

Goku smiled and nodded. "Yeah, well, that's part of why I want to come. Goten and I, we're still getting to know each other." He cleared his throat, scratching awkwardly at the back of his head. His smile was suddenly strained. "I missed more time than I thought…"

"I know," Bulma gently said. "Don't worry about it, there's always room for you. Is Chi-Chi coming too?"

"No, she's spending the day with Gohan and Videl. She's really drilling Videl about us having grandkids," he chuckled. "I have our car parked outside, so I can practice driving with the upgrades you put on it. Besides, Chi-Chi says I can't talk to Goten as much if we use instant transmission all the time."

"Well, I think both you and Vegeta could learn a thing or two by listening to your fabulous and beautiful wives."

"Woman, I think you'd do well to tone down your arrogance," the prince sneered as he walked into the kitchen, only wearing a loose pair of shorts with a towel draped over his shoulders. He scowled at the other Saiyan male with Bulma, not returning the smile Goku offered him.

"Oh, because _you're_ one to talk, Prince Vegeta," Bulma snorted, pouring her husband a cup of hot coffee. "If you had it your way, I'd be hand-feeding every meal to you naked and worshipping the ground you walk on, and you'd rename this planet after you."

Vegeta chuckled, taking the cup from her. "Not a bad plan, female. Maybe I _should_ listen to you more," he teased, making Bulma shake her head.

He took a sip of his coffee, his gaze shifting back over to Goku. His eyes narrowed suspiciously while he drank his coffee, especially when he saw what the other Saiyan was wearing. Goku was wearing a bright red button-down shirt, with loose black swimming trunks. There was a pair of sunglasses that looked like Master Roshi's perched on his head, nestled right into his hair. Vegeta lowered his cup, stared at Goku a moment longer, then looked back to his wife.

"No," he growled, no room for argument in his tone.

"Vegeta-"

"I said no," Vegeta cut in again, angrily pointing at Goku with his free hand. "I did not agree to this. This fool is _not_ coming with us."

"Aw come on, Vegeta," Goku laughed, reaching over and patting Vegeta on the shoulder and nearly making the elder Saiyan spill his coffee from how quickly he moved out of Goku's reach. "I have my own car, so you won't even see me when we're going there! Come on, we're friends now, this'll be fun!"

Vegeta reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. He wouldn't go back on his word to his son, but that didn't mean he was going to enjoy this trip. The thought of being stuck in such a place for two days, with other men constantly ogling his wife, with two boys who were constantly getting in trouble, AND with Goku tagging along? Suffice to say, it made the prince want to blast his head off.

"Come on, hon, don't be difficult," Bulma coaxed, putting a hand on Vegeta's arm. He looked over at her, exhaling through his nose when he saw the smile she was offering him.

"Aw it's alright, I don't have to come, Bulma," Goku softly conceded, getting their attention. "I just wanted to spend time with Goten, since I barely know the kid, and I missed the first seven years of his life…" he sighed, lowering his gaze to the floor. Vegeta's eye started twitching at the sight. Goku continued in the same tone he used to get his way with Chi-Chi, "I guess I can just wait here, all alone, til you guys come back…"

"Fine!" Vegeta finally yelled, cracks spreading on the handle of his ceramic Capsule Corp coffee mug. He grunted and turned his back to Goku and Bulma. "Whatever, you can come with us if you want, I don't care," he snapped. The prince then stalked right out of the kitchen without another word, missing the triumphant grin on Goku's face.

Bulma, though, didn't miss it. She gave her oldest friend an approving smile. "Not bad."

"I dunno what you mean," Goku awkwardly chuckled, lowering his sunglasses so they were covering his eyes.

"Mhmm. Sure you don't," Bulma laughed, turning to go back upstairs. "I'm going to get ready, and we'll head out in about half an hour."

"Sounds great!"

An hour later, and they were all still in Capsule Corp. Goku, Trunks, and Goten were ready to go. The two boys were playing video games in the living room, with Goku was alternating between watching the screen and watching them – especially his son.

Vegeta hadn't been the only one who had come home from defeating Buu to have emotionally draining conversations with his wife and his son. After everyone had left their home, Goku and Chi-Chi had had a heart-to-heart conversation that seemed a decade overdue. The conversation had ended in happy tears of relief on her part that he was back, and then lovemaking until the sun rose the next morning.

The talk with Gohan the next day hadn't gone as smoothly. He hadn't known how hard his oldest son had taken his death, and their talk had lasted hours as Gohan finally got things off his chest that he'd been hanging onto for years. Everything was much better after that, but Goku's eyes had been opened during that talk. He couldn't change the years he'd been gone from his sons' lives, but he could change the years to come.

His attention was diverted when he heard screaming upstairs. Goku curiously glanced up, hearing Vegeta and Bulma both yelling at each other in their bedroom, and then he looked back down at the boys again. Goten and Trunks exchanged an anxious glance, and then quickly went about shutting down the video game.

"What's going on?" Goku curiously asked.

"My mom's ready to go," Trunks informed him, working rapidly with Goten to put the controllers to their game away. "She'll be down here in thirty seconds, and if we're not ready, we're gonna get in big trouble!"

"Oh," Goku said, blinking a few times. "But, Bulma doesn't really sound like she's ready-"

"That's cause my dad is doing something to slow us down, which is making her mad. Goten, make sure you grab your bag!"

"Already got it!" Goten brightly said, raising his bookbag to show his friend. Goku was going to comment again, when they all heard Bulma.

"YOU WILL _WEAR _THIS OUTFIT, AND THAT IS FINAL, VEGETA!"

"I WILL _NOT, _DAMN FEMALE!"

"THE REST OF US LOOK LIKE WE'RE GOING ON A VACATION, AND YOU LOOK LIKE YOU'RE GOING TO A FUNERAL!"

"YOUR FUNERAL WILL BE ARRANGED SOON IF YOU DON'T STOP PESTERING ME!"

Bulma's voice suddenly dropped enough so that they couldn't hear her response, and then there was no more yelling. Right at the thirty second mark that Trunks predicted, Bulma appeared on the steps. She was wearing an open white shirt that showed off a blue bikini top underneath, and very short shorts. She looked over at Goku and the boys, lowering her shades over her eyes.

"Well? You guys ready to go?"

"Yeah!" Trunks and Goten both shouted at the same time.

"Alright then, get a move on to the car."

Trunks' face scrunched up in confusion. "We're driving?"

"Of course we are!" Bulma laughed, going down the stairs and heading towards the door. "We'll leave Goku behind in his car if we take the hover jet. Besides, going in the car will give us plenty of time to talk, and tell stories, and-"

"Wow, Mom. That sounds really boring," Trunks muttered.

"Excuse me, it is NOT boring!" Bulma snapped, making Trunks snap his mouth shut and gulp. "A vacation is about spending time together with family, not just splashing around in an amusement park! Besides, I have lots of stories that you boys haven't heard yet. I mean, when I was only a teenager, I went all over the world!" she excitedly informed them, looking over at Goku. "Isn't that right?"

"That's right," Goku agreed with a grin. "Those days sure were fun."

"They were! Why, one time-"

"Shut up, woman. No one cares about your ridiculous adolescent adventures," Vegeta angrily interrupted, getting everyone's attention.

"Well, look who decided to finally grace us with his royal presence," Bulma teased, eyeing her husband over in approval as he walked down the stairs. She didn't notice the two young boys behind her snickering quietly as she gave Vegeta a flirtatious smile. "You're looking very handsome right now, sweetheart."

"I despise you," Vegeta snarled, coming down to the bottom step. The prince was clad in a dark blue button down shirt, with a myriad of pink flowers plastered all over it. He also had on loose white shorts, some flip flops, and he was wearing a white Capsule Corp visor. The outfit was only topped by the blush on his face.

"Looking pretty stylish there, Vegeta," Goku chuckled.

The prince growled low in his throat, before he snapped, "I'll look more stylish when I'm wearing your blood, Kakarot!"

"Oh, come on hon, don't be a grouch," Bulma laughed, hooking her arm with her husband's.

"Whatever," Vegeta mumbled, his shoulders slumping a little in defeat. He remembered his earlier vow not to ruin this for his family, and so he sighed. "Let's just get on with it."

The boys both hollered in happiness, running out the door, with the adults bringing up the rear. As soon as they got outside, Vegeta's attention was diverted to Goku and his car, which he'd never seen the other man use. The car itself was nowhere near as nice as the sleek sports mobile he and Bulma would be riding in, but it was decent enough. Vegeta frowned at the vehicle, wondering why Goku even bothered bringing it when the younger Saiyan could teleport wherever he wanted. As though catching that thought, Goku shot him a smile as he climbed into his small car.

"You gonna drive your car, Vegeta?"

The prince scoffed. "No. The woman can drive it."

"Oh." Goku's grin spread, like he just put two and two together. "Oh! I get it. You don't know how to drive, do you?"

"Of course I do!" Vegeta snapped, crossing his arms tightly over his chest. "I just don't lower myself to do it."

"But how do ya know how to drive, if you never drive?" Goku wondered.

"Driving isn't like fighting. Once you learn, you learn. There is no skill involved."

"Okay, Vegeta," Goku chuckled, which only raised the ire of his fellow Saiyan.

"What is so funny, clown?"

"Nothin'."

"Hn. I'll show you," Vegeta growled, stalking over to Bulma as she closed the trunk of their car. "Woman!" he yelled, visibly startling her as she spun to face him. "Hand me the key to this thing."

Bulma blinked. "You want to drive?"

"No, I just want to marvel at a piece of metal for no reason," Vegeta sneered. "Of course I want to drive! Now hand it over!"

"Alright, alright, geez. Here, take it," Bulma said, eager to be driven around for once. She deserved to be chauffeured every now and then, after all. She extended the key to him, and Vegeta snatched it and marched over to the front of the car while Bulma went around to sit in the front with him. The boys ran to get in the backseat, when Goku called out to Goten.

"Hey, Goten!"

"Huh?" The boy froze, one foot already inside the car as he looked back at his father in surprise. It was the first time he even noticed that Goku had brought their family car with him.

Goku offered him a warm smile, motioning for the seat next to him. "How about you ride with me to Magic Ice? You can sit in the front! What do ya say?"

"Oh." Goten bit at his bottom lip a bit, looking over at Trunks, and then looking back at Goku.

"Hurry up and go over there, boy," Vegeta roughly ordered as he got reacquainted with the vehicle he was going to be driving. He inserted the key and started the engine while Bulma and Trunks buckled up.

"Actually, I think I'm gonna ride with Trunks," Goten called back to his father, making Bulma and Vegeta exchange a look of surprise. Goten offered Goku a big smile and a wave, and then scrambled into the car, buckling up right away out of instinct. In doing so, he missed the way Goku's smile fractured at his words.

"Goten, you sure you don't wanna ride with your dad?" Bulma questioned.

"Yeah, I want to ride with you guys more," Goten brightly said.

"Alright!" Trunks yelled happily, doing a fist bump with Goten. Vegeta frowned and looked up at the rearview mirror at Goku. He drummed his fingers a little bit on the steering wheel, debating if he should say something. Finally, he sighed.

_These brats are inseparable, Kakarot, _he telepathically sent the younger Saiyan. _Where one goes, the other follows._

_They're best friends, I know. _Goku sent with a nod, starting up his car. _Maybe on the way back, _he optimistically sent back.

Not knowing what else to say, Vegeta dropped the subject completely. _Follow us there, and don't get lost, idiot._

_Oh, I already know the place. It's not far from Videl's. I'll see ya there!_

With that, Goku's small, modest little car shot past the fancy sports car in a blur. Vegeta growled and instantly floored the accelerator so hard, he nearly broke the pedal. The car spun around, leaving marks on the pavement as they sped off after Goku.

"Holy crap, Vegeta!" Bulma shrieked, one hand over her heart. She looked back over at the boys in the back, but they were both only laughing and cheering Vegeta to drive faster. No, if anyone was in danger in the vehicle, it was her. "Will you slow down?" she finally shouted. "This is a classic antique model, and you're gonna wreck it! You're driving like a lunatic!"

Vegeta scoffed as his car slowly caught up to Goku's. "Woman, calm yourself. I have driven and operated a thousand different space vehicles-"

"I don't care about your stupid space vehicles, I care about you wrecking my baby!" Bulma yelled at him.

Trunks rolled his eyes. "Aw, Mom, I'm fine."

"I wasn't talking about you!" she shot at him, making Trunks blink. "The only thing that could ever wreck YOU is your father!"

"Damn right," Vegeta smugly agreed, looking out his driver's window to see Goku driving next to him. The younger Saiyan glanced over at him and grinned, flashing him a peace sign with his fingers. Goku then sped off, laughing all the way while Vegeta gaped after him.

"How fast can that piece of garbage go?" he cried out.

"Oh, Goku told me it was way too slow and he asked for an upgrade a week ago, so I gave him one."

"And you didn't give your own vehicle an upgrade?" Vegeta snarled angrily.

"Hey, this bad boy doesn't need an upgrade, buddy! It's the fastest land vehicle on the planet!" The prince scowled, his eyes skirting over the various controls in the car while Bulma continued ranting, "Just because YOU don't know how to fully operate it, don't criticize-"

Vegeta slammed his hand into the dashboard, hitting a slew of buttons all at once. Their car suddenly shot off in a blur, forcing Bulma back against her seat and forcing her blood pressure to shoot through the roof. The two Saiyans were zigzagging between other cars, both trying to win their impromptu race. Trunks and Goten resumed their cheering, each of them hollering for their respective father to win. Vegeta was cackling maniacally while Bulma just held on for dear life.

Their hour long drive was cut down to fifteen minutes – five of which included Bulma sweet-talking a police officer into not giving either Saiyan a speeding ticket after they arrived at Magic Ice. Sometimes, it paid to be as gorgeous as she was. A kiss on the cheek and a wink was all it took to get the tickets brought down to mere warnings, much to her husband's annoyance.

They had barely arrived, and Vegeta already wanted to leave. He had gotten distracted by the flashing lights from the police officer, and that had given Goku enough edge to win their race. That was enough to put him into a bad mood, and watching Bulma blatantly flirt with the officer did not help. He was muttering to himself as he retrieved their belongings that Bulma hadn't capsulized from the back of the car. He hoped this place sold alcohol.

"Good race, Vegeta! That was really close, you almost beat me," Goku brightly said.

Vegeta's eye twitched, and he slammed the trunk of the car shut with far more strength than necessary. "Shut up, Kakarot," he muttered as Bulma came up next to them.

"I knew I was coming with two children, I didn't know I was coming with four," she told them, giving them both glares that could have killed.

"Aw, but it was fun!"

"Fun for all of YOU! Can we not forget that I'm only human and probably wouldn't survive a car wreck?"

"Woman, that's what the dragon balls are for."

"Mom, can we go get on the rides now?" Trunks excitedly interrupted, pointing in the direction of the enormous theme park. "Please? Please?"

"You two can go on ahead, but only if Goku goes with you," Bulma said, making eye contact with Goku. They both exchanged a smile, and Goku jogged up to both boys. He ruffled Goten's hair, and were soon lost in the crowd of people heading in.

"When are we leaving again?" Vegeta demanded, his nose twitching at just how many humans were around them. There were far too many children there for his taste.

Bulma smiled and hooked her arm into his. "Oh come on, you're going to have fun."

"Only if I can kill some humans," he grumbled.

She laughed, "Yeah, cause you saved them just to kill them. Right."

Vegeta grunted, conceding her point while allowing her to pull him along towards the hotel adjacent to the theme park. He glared at everyone who gave his shirt a second look, baring his teeth at them for good measure. Much to his dismay, however, his usual intimidation was cut short by his outfit.

Bulma checked them in, and after they dropped off their belongings in their rooms, she decided she wanted to tan and that she wanted him to join her. Vegeta grumbled to himself as they headed towards the hotel's outdoor pool, but he wasn't too opposed. The woman often tanned at home, and all it seemed to consist of was lying down and doing nothing in the sun. He could do that – lie down, relax, meditate-

Vegeta's thoughts were brought to an abrupt halt when Bulma started shedding her clothes as soon as they stepped outside, left in only her shades and her snug, blue bikini that left very little to the imagination.

"Woman, put your clothes back on!" the prince hissed, snatching up her shirt and trying to cover her with it.

"Vegeta, if we're gonna tan, the clothes need to come off! No one tans with clothes on, see?" she explained, gesturing around them. Vegeta looked, and sure enough, there was a large pool with many humans both in the water and laying in lounge chairs around it. The men and women were all scantily dressed, in his opinion.

"Ridiculous human customs," he mumbled under his breath. He started removing his own shirt, angrily kicking off his flip flops. Bulma lowered her shades at him, looking his body over in appreciation. The prince didn't notice as he threw his visor aside, left only in his swimming trunks. "Leaving yourselves so exposed in public to an attack. It's a miracle you all weren't already exterminated before we even landed on this planet."

Bulma smirked, pushing her shades back up. "You ought to thank your lucky stars that it didn't happen, because then you would've never met _me._"

Vegeta rolled his eyes. "That would not have been a bad thing."

"Watch it, buddy, or you're sleeping on the floor tonight."

"Whatever."

"Come on, let's find some lounge chairs before they're all taken up," she told him, taking his hand in hers. He sighed in defeat, following after her. Vegeta scowled when they stopped walking and Bulma sat down on a lounge chair by the pool.

"So what are you going to do now?" he sneered. "Lay here for the rest of the day like a lazy human?"

"Excuse you, I'm going to lay here and become even more gorgeous than I already am," she scoffed, and for the first time, he noticed her bottle of lotion in her free hand. She gave him a flirtatious smile, teasing him with the bottle. "Will you spread this on me, hon?"

"I am not your slave, female. Do it yourself."

Bulma's smile disappeared, and she glared at him from behind her glasses. "Such a jerk," she muttered, shaking her head. "Could've married someone nice, but nooo…"

Vegeta was ignoring her, scanning over the humans around the pool, and his scowl worsened. He shifted his gaze back to his wife, who was spreading the lotion on her arm.

"There is no other seat available for me," he informed her. "You took the last one."

"Get in the pool then."

"With those other humans? Not likely."

"Why don't you go find Goku and the boys then, and go on some fun water rides with them," Bulma suggested, barely able to keep a straight face.

"Oh yes, that would be _loads_ of fun, why don't I drown myself too while I'm at it?" Vegeta deadpanned.

"Well, don't do that. The other guests wouldn't like it too much," she laughed.

"The other guests…" he muttered, frowning in thought. He looked over at the humans on either side of Bulma, and went over to the man on her right. The man was extremely obese and only in a small, snug speedo. Vegeta's eye twitched as he walked over to the human. The man was lying on his lounge chair, tanning, and looked to be asleep.

Without warning, Vegeta reached down, grabbed the bottom of the lounge chair, and swung it up off the ground. The man screamed as he was launched into the air, spinning head over heels and landing right in the pool with a huge splash. Everyone looked over at Vegeta in shock, but quickly averted their eyes when they saw the death warning in his eyes. Satisfied, the prince lowered the lounge chair and then reclined back onto it.

"Smooth," Bulma muttered, rolling her eyes. "We'll probably never be invited back here after we leave."

Vegeta grunted, crossing his arms behind his head and closing his eyes. "Good."

She grumbled something about not being able to take him anywhere, but soon focused on acquiring herself a nice tan. Vegeta heard when she laid back to soak up the sun, and though he wondered why they couldn't have just done this back home, he said nothing more.

Whenever he laid down outside, it was usually late at night under the light of the stars. It really _was _relaxing, even with the other humans there, to just lay back and enjoy the warmth of the sun instead. The heat reminded him of Nappa and Raditz, the way they both would relish intense heat whenever they came across it in their purges. They always said it reminded them of their home planet, but he couldn't remember enough to agree or disagree with them.

Not that it mattered now. The sun and the heat on his new planet were just fine in his opinion.

He must've dozed off, because the next thing he knew, water was hitting him right in the face. Vegeta abruptly sat up, and then was splashed again, this time enough to get drenched. He growled and shook his head rapidly, glaring at the two boys in the pool who were giving him impish grins. Bulma was in the water with them, laughing.

"I tried stopping them, you know," Bulma teased him. Vegeta rolled his eyes, wiping the water off his face.

"_Sure_ you did."

"Come in the water, Dad!" Trunks yelled, holding up a beach ball with both hands while he paddled in the water. He threw the beach ball with frightening velocity right at Goten, who easily snatched it up out the air.

"Yeah, Vegeta! Jump in, the water looks great!"

Everyone looked over at Goku, who was standing on the spring board. Vegeta cringed, looking away from the other full-blooded Saiyan, who was standing naked as the day he was born.

"Damn it, Kakarot, put some clothes on, imbecile!" he shouted, right before Goku jumped up into the air and pulled himself up into a cannon ball.

Vegeta's words were barely out when he and the humans near him were all drenched by the huge splash Goku made. He shot up to his feet, growling and dripping wet. Without a word of warning, the Saiyan dove into the water, taking a swing right at Goku's laughing face. Goten got involved before he could connect though, tackling the prince from the side and submerging them both into the water. Trunks jumped right in to help his dad as all four of them suddenly started brawling in the water, which quickly had everyone with human blood vacating the pool – Bulma included.

"Saiyans," she sighed, shaking her head while wrapping a towel around herself moments later. She gladly took a glass of sparkling lemonade from a server that walked by, before turning her attention back towards the pool. Unfortunately, the four could quite literally fight for the rest of the day – but she knew how to make sure that didn't happen.

"Hey boys, it's just about lunch time!"

That did the trick.

Twenty minutes later, Bulma was watching in amazement as the four scarfed down everything that was laid in front of them. She left the chefs a nice tip, because they were working themselves to the bone to keep up with four starving males with Saiyan blood. They were still outside at an outdoor table, though Goku was now permanently borrowing one of Vegeta's pairs of black swimming trunks (there was no way Vegeta would _ever_ wear them again).

"This place is awesome!" Trunks declared, once his eating finally slowed down. "We gotta go back to the park and get on more of the rides!"

"But we can't get on the _really cool_ rides," Goten whined, frowning in disappointment. "They say we're not tall enough."

"Deliver one blow to the solar plexus of the fool who told you that, and they'll let you on the blasted thing," Vegeta gruffly told them, making Goku laugh and making Bulma hit him on the shoulder. His eyes shifted to his wife as he scowled. "What? It's true."

"Don't listen to him. Always play by the rules, boys," Bulma warned.

"Aw, but that's no fun, Mom," Trunks sighed. Vegeta smirked a little, raising his glass for a drink while Bulma gave her son a glare that could have killed. Trunks gulped and nodded, correcting himself instantly. "I mean—you're right, Mom."

"Of course I am," Bulma smugly said. "Your mother is always right, Trunks. The sooner you accept this, the better the rest of your life will be."

Vegeta lowered his glass, rolling his eyes, but unable to deny how content he felt. It was warm out, he'd caught a short nap, his stomach was full, and his adrenaline from the brief sporting brawl was gone, leaving him feeling satisfied. The only annoyance now was that his skin was itching though from the water in the pool, and he was craving a shower. He'd remedy that in a moment.

"There's a photo place, can we all go and take pictures before we leave, please?" Trunks asked excitedly.

"I think that'd be fun," Bulma agreed.

Goku patted Goten on the back. "That sounds great. I need to be in some more pictures around the house, I think."

"I think so too," Goten quietly said with a smile.

"You'll come too, won't you, Dad?" Trunks asked, shifting his attention to his father.

Vegeta looked back at his son for a few seconds, scowled, and gave a conceding nod. He then stood up and walked back into the hotel without a word, making sure to collect his clothes along the way. Everyone was quite used to the prince's abrupt departures, and no one batted an eye as the boys continued making plans for what they wanted to see and do over the weekend.

Some time later, Bulma finally went back to the hotel room she'd gotten just for her and her husband. Vegeta was standing by the window when she walked in, freshly showered and slipping on his blue shirt with pink flowers. He glanced at her over his shoulder while adjusting his shirt, and then went back to looking out the window.

"Was the water bothering you?" she knowingly asked.

Vegeta frowned over how well she knew him. "Nothing bothers me, foolish woman."

"Good, then you'll come with us to take these pictures then."

The prince didn't respond. He would have preferred not to; pictures always made him uncomfortable. He had already told Trunks he would go though, and he never broke his word to his son. Remaining silent, Vegeta considered the view of the theme park, instinctively picking up where Trunks and Goten were. Despite his initial opposition, he was glad Goku had come with them after all. Better the younger Saiyan chasing after the boys than him.

Bulma was humming behind him, a habit she only did when she was relaxed. She was going through their capsulized luggage, wondering what new outfit she should wear for the rest of the day, but Vegeta kept getting her attention. The sight of him in that shirt that he'd fought so hard against wearing that morning made her smile. She knew how much he hated gatherings where he had to mingle with the general public.

He wasn't there for himself; he was there for them.

Vegeta didn't react when Bulma wrapped her arms around him from behind, gently hugging him around his waist. She kissed him right by his ear. "I'm really glad you're here with us, Vegeta."

"Hn."

"I like you in this shirt, you know. Makes you look sexy," she whispered in his ear.

Vegeta smirked, recognizing that tone in her voice. "Is that right?"

"Mhmm, you fell asleep so you didn't see the looks you were getting by the pool."

"I wasn't wearing this by the pool."

"Oh yeah," Bulma breathed, moving her hand inside his open shirt and over his rock-hard abs. "Maybe we should take it off then."

"Bulma," he growled in warning as she pulled off his shirt, tossing it aside. "Don't start something you don't intend to finish."

"The boys are busy dragging Goku along for every ride in the park. Besides. They're not the only ones allowed to have fun on our vacation."

"I suppose you have a point there," Vegeta conceded, turning away from the window to finally face his wife. Any additional words on his tongue were lost as Bulma's bikini top landed just over his shirt on the floor.

"I always have a point," she smugly told him while Vegeta openly admired her body. His dark eyes finally settled on her breasts, his breathing becoming quicker. For all intents and purposes, the Saiyan in front of her looked poised to attack any second now. Bulma licked her lips in anticipation. There was always something primal about her husband whenever he got aroused that made every time a rush, like she was bringing danger itself into her bed.

It was a good thing she had never shied away from danger.

"Well?" Bulma flirtatiously asked, settling her hands on her waist. Vegeta's eyes shot up to hers. "You just going to stare at me or what? I don't have all day, you know."

Bulma never even saw him move before she was flat on her back on their bed. Her husband was right on top of her, keeping her hands pinned over her head.

"Watch what you ask for, female," he growled.

His lips hovered over her mouth before he moved his head down her to her neck, then to her chest, like a starving man who couldn't decide where to begin at a feast. Bulma shivered at the feel of his hot breath over her bare skin, struggling at his grip so he would release her. Vegeta did, putting his hand to better use as he cupped a breast while he ravished it with his tongue. Bulma whimpered and slid a hand into his dark hair, getting a good grip in a silent plea not to stop.

Mere seconds later, Goku suddenly teleported in, right next to their bed.

"Hey guys, the boys and I…" Goku brightly started, before blinking at what he was seeing.

"Goku!" Bulma shrieked and practically threw a startled Vegeta off the bed completely. The prince quickly recovered, and then instinctively grabbed the blankets on the bed, hauling them over his wife's chest. He wrapped his arm across her for good measure while he glared at the red-faced Saiyan in the room with them.

"Damn it, Kakarot!" Vegeta screamed at him. "Haven't you ever heard of knocking, you idiot!"

"Ah, I'm sorry, Vegeta," Goku awkwardly chuckled, scratching at the back of his head. "I just wanted to ask you guys if you wanted some ice cream, cause Trunks and Goten want to buy some-"

"Goku," Bulma groaned, one hand covering her eyes as she thanked the heavens that he hadn't teleported in with the boys. "Please, _please_ don't ever teleport in if I'm alone with my husband."

"Well, gee, guys, I dunno why you're both so embarrassed," Goku mused aloud, shrugging carelessly before grinning. "I mean, I know what Vegeta's got because he's a guy, and I've already seen everything you've got, Bulma."

Vegeta momentarily lost all ability to think, stunned by the revelation. "What?" he asked, narrowing his eyes dangerously. "_What_ did you just say?" he snarled.

"Oh yeah, back when we were kids," Goku laughed. "I've seen everything Bulma has, and she's seen me naked a buncha times-"

His words were promptly silenced by Vegeta's fist smashing right into his face. Goku yelped in surprise, stumbling backwards, but he had no time to do much else before an irate Super Saiyan prince was suddenly tackling him right through the wall. Both of them flew outside and crashed into the ground, causing an explosion of concrete and screaming from frightened people that had been mingling outside. When the dust cleared, Vegeta was mounting Goku and strangling him.

"You touched my woman and neither of you ever told me? I'm going to END you, Kakarot!" Vegeta screamed in his face. Goku struggled for a few moments to break free, but when he couldn't do it in his base form, he finally ascended and forced Vegeta to let him go. Both of them got back up to their feet quickly, with Vegeta practically seething. At the sight of the prince's very real anger, Goku raised both hands up in innocence.

"Vegeta, it wasn't like that," Goku calmly told the prince, offering him a hesitant smile. "It was innocent, we were just kids. I've never done anything with Bulma, we're just friends. Honest."

Vegeta's fists were still slightly raised and clenched, his body squared for a fight. His lip twitched at Goku's words, but he knew it was the truth. Goku was many things, but he was no liar. His shoulders relaxed, his rage dwindling but not extinguishing completely. By the time Bulma finally threw a shirt on and got there, Vegeta had lowered his fists, though he was still irritated.

He cast Bulma a glance as she ran over to them, but he turned around and walked off to clear his mind before she could get to him. Best he calm down, so he wouldn't say things to her that he would regret.

"Hey, is everything okay?" Bulma breathlessly asked Goku when she got to him. She looked after her retreating husband, and then looked up to the enormous hole in the wall of the nice hotel. "Well, that's gonna cost a nice penny to fix up."

"I bet."

"Did you clear everything up with Vegeta? Do I need to go after him?"

"I told him you and I haven't, you know," Goku chuckled awkwardly. He looked towards his friend, prodding him gently through their mental bond. "He's calmed down, but I think it's probably best if we let him cool off a little more."

"I think you're right," Bulma relented. "I'll clear up everything here with the hotel for now. Where are the boys?"

"Eating ice cream by the Sliding Eel ride, I think it's called. They want to take pictures soon."

"Oh, right. We'll do that after I'm done here."

Goku blinked. "Uh, but don't you wanna wait for Vegeta?"

"Trust me." She winked, heading back into the hotel.

A couple hours later, after signing a nice check over to the hotel, enjoying some ice cream, and watching the boys get on some enormous water rides, the group made their way over to "Polar Photos" where they could take strips of photographs together for memories. Trunks and Goten were both wearing shades at this point with matching "Magic Ice" shirts. Their swimming trunks and flip flops didn't slow them down at all as they charged over to Polar Photos, eagerly getting in line.

Goten looked over at his father when Bulma and Goku finally caught up. "Hey Dad, after me and Trunks take some pictures, can me and you take some too?"

Goku smiled. "Sure, that'd be great."

Meanwhile, Trunks was looking around for his own father. He frowned, trying to sense Vegeta's ki signature, but he couldn't get anything back. He worriedly noticed that they were nearing the front of the line, but Vegeta was nowhere in sight.

"Mom?" Trunks turned to Bulma. "Did Dad leave?"

"No, of course not," she assured him. "He's just taking a breather. You know your father."

"Oh," Trunks softly said, looking confused. "It's weird though, I can't sense him."

"Shows you still have a lot to learn, boy," Vegeta's gruff voice cut in, drawing everyone's attention. He was dressed in jeans and a simple black tank top Bulma had packed for him, his hands in his pockets while he came up to them.

"Dad, you made it!"

"Told you I would, didn't I?" Vegeta sneered, but Trunks was unfazed, looking ahead with a smile. The prince looked ahead as well, crossing his arms and avoiding looking at Bulma or Goku while his fingers impatiently drummed against his bicep.

"Made it right on time, Vegeta!" Goku added with a smile. The prince just rolled his eyes, remaining silent.

Finally, the group made it to the front, and were ushered inside. There were several enormous dark booths to go into, and the boys immediately ran over to the first one, both of them arguing over the funny poses they were going to make. Bulma looked over at her husband, poking him in the ribs.

"Want to take some pictures with me, Vegeta?" she sweetly asked him. He shrugged with indifference, sighing as she grabbed onto his wrist and led him over to another dark booth.

Vegeta scowled as he was forced to sit on a small seat inside of what looked like an enormous box of some kind. There was a monitor screen in front of him, flashing different prices for different pictures. He grunted as Bulma sat on his lap, making herself comfortable. She leaned forward, picking how many pictures she wanted.

"So?"

"So _what_, female?" he snapped harshly, his earlier irritation returning. "Pick whatever the hell you want."

"You know that's not what I want to talk about," Bulma sighed. She shifted over enough on his lap so that she could see him in the dim light, but Vegeta was glaring away from her. She put her arms around his neck, leaning in close to whisper to him. "Vegeta, sweetheart, come on. Don't be mad. I've told you that before you, it was only Yamcha. You've known this for years."

Vegeta turned his head a little towards her, frowning as he collected his thoughts. "You should have told me, even if nothing did happen between you and Kakarot," he finally said. "I'm your husband. I think I deserve to know just which of your idiot friends have seen you naked."

Bulma reached over and scrolled through the backgrounds, picking a waterfall. She leaned back with her husband as the machine started loading up.

"Fair enough," she conceded, before flashing the camera a dazzling smile as she hugged him. "Smile, Vegeta."

"Hn," he grunted, glaring at the camera as the picture was snapped.

"But in my defense," Bulma continued, looking back at him. This time, he made eye contact with her. "I've tried tons of times to tell you about those days, but you never cared to hear it. And of all things, those few times weren't even that big a deal, I don't ever think about it. I didn't think it would upset you that much."

Vegeta stayed silent for a few moments, lowering his gaze to the floor. "The thought was just infuriating," he bitterly admitted. "I'm second to him in enough things as it is, and for a second, I thought…it doesn't matter. If you both say nothing happened, then nothing happened, so forget it. Are we done here yet?" he impatiently demanded.

"No, we're not done. We still have three more pictures to take," she said, leaning in close to him. She nuzzled her nose behind his ear, making him close his eyes right before the next picture was taken. "You're second to no one, Vegeta. Don't ever think that."

"Hn," he grunted with indifference, even as he finally relaxed.

"So, am I going to get a smile out of you for one of these pictures?" Bulma coaxed, bringing one hand down to rub his chest a little.

"No," he scoffed.

"But you have such a handsome smile."

"Too bad."

"Not even for your wife who you love so much?"

Vegeta let out a disgusted snort. "Woman, I couldn't care less about you."

Bulma growled, trying to hit him in the head. Vegeta couldn't help his genuine laughter as he easily blocked the shot, right as the next picture was taken. He promptly ended her struggles when he pulled her into a deep, passionate kiss, telling her everything he had to say without words. Bulma put her arms around him, eagerly reciprocating.

Neither of them noticed the last picture being taken, but it wound up being their best.


	4. A year later

Most people were lazy and bummed around on their first day off in months. Bulma Briefs, however, was not most people.

She had her entire day planned right down to the minute, showing the efficiency that had everyone speculating that she would soon step up and take over as the new president of Capsule Corp. Bulma needed it too, because her task for the day wasn't to run the most successful company on the planet – it was to throw a spectacular engagement party for Gohan and Videl.

The young couple had only gotten engaged several weeks prior, but with Videl and her high profile father, the media had already caught wind of the engagement and were running the story into the ground. Out of the whole group, only Bulma and Hercule were equipped to handle the media blitz. And between the two of them, it was obvious to Bulma who was capable of throwing the more kickass party. If there was one thing she could do well, it was plan a damn good party. Now the day had finally arrived, and she had a million and one things to do to give Gohan and Videl an evening they would always remember.

But before she got down to business, she had to start her day right, the best way she knew how.

Vegeta's breath was hot against her skin, his face against the side of her neck where her smell was the strongest and most intoxicating. Bulma was panting as she ran one hand down his hot, sweaty back until her fingers ran into the lazy tangle of sheets at his waist that they were still wrapped up in.

Their sex at night was always good, but first thing in the morning, before sleep had fully left them, was her favorite time to enjoy her prince. His guard was always lowered, his touch more tender, his pace slower. Words weren't needed during mornings like this one, not when everything that could ever be said between them was communicated through heat and touch.

Bulma pushed the sheets as far down as she could to expose as much of his skin as she could, clutching him closer to her, her nails digging into his lower back. Shuddering, Vegeta moved his forehead against her bare shoulder as he braced both hands on the mattress on either side of her head. His hips stilled with him deep inside her, his arms flexed rigidly with tension, only the sounds of their heavy breathing filling the room. It was then that Bulma realized how close her fingers were to the small stub on his lower back where his tail used to be.

She moved her fingers closer, massaging him right around the stub, making Vegeta's jaw go slack from the stimulation as he shuddered again. He closed his eyes, and after a few seconds of her touch, he resumed a slow rhythm. But when Bulma increased the pressure her fingers were applying, he grunted and started picking up the pace.

He snarled in surprise when she grabbed a fistful of his damp hair with her free hand, roughly yanking his head back up for a heated kiss. Vegeta immediately reached up and grasped her wrist, pinning her hand down on the mattress over her head, though he did nothing to remove the fingers still on his lower back. Bulma realized this in surprise; normally he would've taken both her hands off him by now and resumed complete control. She smiled a little into their kiss and put pressure around his stub with her nails while she drew in his lower lip between her teeth, her panting mixing with his.

Her nails introduced a flash of pain and blinding pleasure, and that was as far as he lasted. His whole body jerked and then tensed as he groaned in ecstasy against her lips. Finally, the prince went limp on top of her, exhausted, panting, and very satiated.

Bulma smiled in triumph as she gently ran a hand through his hair. In all their years together, she could count on one hand the amount of times she'd made Vegeta finish first. To crack a man with his endurance and self-control was always an achievement, and the rare moments always seemed to happen in the morning. Another reason why it was her favorite time.

The bright light of the sun was peeking in around their curtains, an unfortunate reminder that she couldn't stay in bed with her husband all day, no matter how much she wanted to. She snuck a look over at the time, and was pleasantly surprised. Not only were they still on schedule, but she still had twenty minutes to spare before she was scheduled for a quick shower. More than enough time to get hers.

Not wasting another second, Bulma pushed back against the prince on top of her. Still in a haze, Vegeta rolled off his wife, sprawling out on his back with a weak grunt. She followed his movement, sitting up and straddling his waist, making the Saiyan beneath her groan.

"Woman, don't you have a thousand things to do today," Vegeta mumbled, eyes half lidded as he gazed up at her.

"I do," she confirmed, playfully walking two fingers from his stomach, slowly up to his chest, relishing in the heat his body was giving off. "But a girl's gotta start her day right. Just cause you can't keep up with me this morning doesn't mean you get to leave me hanging."

His eyes focused, his glare hard. "Don't get things mistaken, female. Just because I let you have your fun doesn't mean you can keep up with me."

"Blah, blah, _blah,_" she drawled, purposely leaning over him so that her bare breasts were right in his face. Vegeta's eyes darkened. "You're all talk this morning, and no action-"

The word had barely left her lips before she abruptly found herself pinned face down on the mattress, with Vegeta's heat trapping her from behind. A bright golden light exploded in the room, only his impressive discipline keeping the ki from burning her skin raw. Bulma's heart was racing as she felt the heat of his transformation behind her. Twenty minutes? With her husband ascended, she wouldn't last two.

"Best cancel your schedule, woman," Vegeta whispered in her ear, his breath heavy again and giving her chills. "You're not going anywh-"

He stopped and turned his attention to the side as Bulma's cell phone started ringing on the night stand right next to them. Bulma recognized the ring tone and buried her face against the mattress, whimpering in defeat.

"Goddamnit," she groaned.

"Forget it," Vegeta breathed, his lips already on the skin of her back.

"I can't, I have to take it, it might be important."

He growled in frustration, "Just call them back-"

"That ringer is for Trunks' school, Vegeta," she explained in exasperation. The prince scowled and leaned up enough to let her move. Bulma reached out and grabbed the phone, instantly answering it.

"Hello?...yes, this is she," she said, as Vegeta sighed behind her. He rolled off her again, laying on his side and observing his wife, hoping this was just a quick interruption and they could resume where they left off soon. But when Bulma turned around and sat up, yelling, "He did WHAT?" – Vegeta knew that no one's plans were going to be followed that day.

He laid back down on his back, rubbing his forehead as his eyes and hair darkened again. "Yes, we'll be there soon," Bulma sighed, before hanging up, tossing the phone back on the bed and getting up.

"Now what did the idiot boy do?" Vegeta grumbled, watching as his wife started gathering up her things to get ready.

"I'll tell you what _your son_ did," Bulma snapped, angrily disappearing into their closet to pick her outfit for the day. "He went and got himself into a fight at school, and now he's been suspended for a week!"

"Suspended?" Vegeta asked, raising an eyebrow. "Like from the ceiling?"

Bulma walked back out of her closet a moment later, arm filled with clothes. She fixed her husband with an incredulous stare, wondering if he was being sarcastic. At the genuine confusion on his face, her features softened.

"No, hon. He's not physically being suspended from anything. It just means he's not allowed to go back to school for a week, as punishment."

The confusion in his eyes disappeared, quickly replaced by irritation. "Why are they punishing him? Shouldn't they leave that task to us?"

Bulma sighed, heading over to the bathroom. "Look, we can talk about it more on the way there. I need to take a shower and so do you, and then we need to go pick up Trunks because they want to talk to us both, and then I have a lot of other things-"

"Who the hell said I was going?" Vegeta scoffed, sitting up. He slowly rotated his neck while he stretched his arms. "You handle it. You're his mother."

Bulma whirled around, lifting one finger up in warning. "DON'T start, Vegeta. Our 9-year-old kid just got suspended from school, and now my plans for the morning just got killed to go deal with his principal and teachers, and on top of that, I didn't even get my freakin' orgasm, okay? So you're coming with me, and that's final!"

"_Coming_ with you?" he playfully asked, flashing her a maddening smirk. Bulma blinked a few times, and then gave him a withering stare that would've made most men lose their spines. It only made her husband's smirk spread in amusement.

"I married a smartass," she muttered, going into the bathroom and slamming the door shut behind her.

"Best thing you've ever done."

"You better shut up because I'm contemplating a divorce right now!" she shouted back, before he heard water running. Vegeta chuckled and got up, walking over to the bathroom door and letting himself in.

"Woman, please. No other male on this planet would put up with your shit like I do," he informed her, going over and opening the shower curtain. She turned to glare at him, scrubbing shampoo into her hair.

"Excuse me! Any man on this planet would kill for a dinner with me!" she shot back at him. Her lips pursed in frustration. "What are you doing? I thought you were going to take a shower after me. We don't have time to mess around, Vegeta. I've got-"

"Lots of things to do, a schedule to keep, I know," he deadpanned in disinterest, even while he hungrily took in her dripping wet body. "Precisely why we should shower together - to save time, of course."

"Uh huh. You're not fooling me, buddy. You're not here for a shower," Bulma knowingly said, though she had to admit, his persistence was flattering. But then again, she wondered with a sigh, who could blame him? She _was _gorgeous and completely irresistible-

"Well?" he demanded, bringing her back to the present.

There was only a brief moment of deliberation, before she reached out and grabbed him by the hand, pulling him into the shower. Vegeta yanked the curtain closed behind them, and then instantly backed his wife against the tiled wall. Bulma wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing him closer, the heat in the shower suddenly spiraling.

"Make it fast," she whispered against his smirking lips. "And you BETTER deliver this time, jerk."

Taking her words as a direct challenge, deliver he did.

Even though he had an excellent start to his morning and had been in a relatively good mood during breakfast, that good mood all but vanished when he stepped foot in his son's school less than an hour later. It was only the second time he'd ever been in the building, the first time being when his son "graduated" from Kindergarten, a ridiculous tradition that had Bulma threatening to castrate him if he dared miss. After another mother's infant vomited on his shirt while they sat in the audience that day, the prince swore he was never coming again.

And yet here he was. Back in hell, which reeked of chalk, crayons, and dirty children. Vegeta's nose twitched in agitation as he followed his wife to a small, empty office.

"Please wait here Mr. and Mrs. Briefs, the principal will be with you shortly," a chirpy young secretary said, beaming as she stepped aside to let the couple through. Bulma politely thanked her, but Vegeta ignored her entirely, less he kill her on the spot.

"Hopefully this doesn't take long," Bulma sighed, checking her cell phone for the time while she took a seat. Vegeta sat down in silence next to her, arms crossed firmly over his chest while he glared straight ahead. Bulma looked over at him and rolled her eyes in exasperation. "You know, I actually have things to do today for Gohan and Videl, and all you're missing is your early morning training session, so quit your sulking already."

"I am _not _sulking," Vegeta growled, glare fixed on the window behind the principal's desk. "Neither of us should be here, as far as I'm concerned. The boy didn't kill anyone, so I fail to see what the problem is."

"The _issue _is that YOUR son-"

Vegeta scoffed, "Oh, so now he's only MY son, is he?"

"Well he sure as hell doesn't get that supernatural strength from me!"

"Thank goodness for that, the boy has inherited more than enough from you, nothing good might I add."

"Yeah? Well clearly, he didn't inherit his common sense from me, or we wouldn't be here, now would we?" Bulma snapped, poking her husband hard in the arm. "You keep teaching him to punch first and ask questions later, and we're going to be doing this for a long time, buddy."

Vegeta's eyes narrowed. "There is nothing wrong with defending yourself if need be. It's not our son's fault that all these human children are weaklings-"

"Mr. and Mrs. Briefs, thank you both for coming, I apologize for the wait," a flustered, balding middle aged man in a worn suit announced as he hurried into the room.

"Apology _not_ accepted," Vegeta sneered, earning an uncomfortable look from the principal as he sat down. There were numerous urban legends about the mean-looking man married to the most powerful woman on the planet, none of which were good. Sitting across from the man now, the principal now fully understood (and believed) a good deal of those legends. He gulped a little and pushed up his glasses as Bulma elbowed Vegeta in the arm, shooting him a warning look.

"Don't mind my husband, Mr. Banks," Bulma smoothly said, breaking the tension in the room. Vegeta reclined back and stared off to the side away from both of them. "We just had a busy day planned. I'm sure you've heard about Videl and Gohan's engagement party tonight? Well, I am running the logistics for it, and it's going to be an amazing party," Bulma smugly announced, making her husband lean his head back and inwardly groan. "Of course, I would've preferred planning it for a Saturday night, but a Friday night is just as good, don't you think? Besides, it's the only time when-"

"Quit your pathetic rambling already, woman!" Vegeta snapped, startling the principal half to death. "No one here cares-"

Bulma whirled on her husband, "Excuse you, you jerk! I was just explaining how busy our day is!"

"Right, of course." Mr. Banks cleared his throat, shuffling through the mess of papers on his desk. "We're all quite busy, so let's keep this brief…um, no pun intended," he said with a forced chuckle. Neither Bulma nor Vegeta looked amused, however, making Mr. Banks' cheeks flush red. "Apologies," he sheepishly added, taking a deep breath to gather his thoughts while he organized some paperwork on his desk.

"Let's get to the real reason why you were both called in today. Earlier today, your son got into quite the physical altercation during recess with a boy a grade below him. It's not clear which of the two boys started the fight, but they are both being suspended for a week."

"Who finished the fight?" Vegeta demanded. "Better have been Trunks, or we are disowning the boy-"

"Vegeta, would you quit it?"

"Woman, it is a legitimate question."

Mr. Banks wiped some sweat off his brow, silently musing to himself that he wasn't paid enough for this. "Well, sir, the boys didn't stop fighting until one of the teachers threatened to call their parents."

"The other boy wasn't badly hurt, was he?" Bulma anxiously asked. "We'll cover any medical expenses he might need-"

"No, both boys seem to be fine. They're both waiting to be picked up by their parents."

Vegeta looked off to the side for a moment, easily picking up on his son sitting in another office. It didn't take him long to pick up on the other boy either, but once he did, he couldn't say he was surprised. The prince exhaled through his nose in frustration, unsure which boy he wanted to kill first for ruining his morning.

"Goten," he grumbled to his wife, much to the shock of the principal in front of them.

"Goten? Trunks got into a fight with Goten?" Bulma exclaimed, turning around as though the boys had walked in. When she didn't see anyone, she turned back to her husband. "But they're best friends, they'd never-"

"Never what? Fight? They're boys," Vegeta countered gruffly, leaving the important words unsaid: they were boys with Saiyan blood. How many times had he himself picked a fight just for the fun of it when he was their age? Though admittedly, those fights had always ended much differently.

"Look, Mr. Banks. I'm very sorry about Trunks' behavior, and if there was any property damage, we'll handle it. We'll also be sure to have a talk with Trunks to make sure this doesn't happen again," Bulma stated, making her husband roll his eyes. "That said, don't you think a one-week suspension is a bit extreme?"

Mr. Banks pushed up his glasses, readying himself. Parents never took this well, but the two in front of him were not the typical parents he was used to dealing with. "No, it's a standard punishment for anyone involved in a fight-"

"_Punishment?_" Vegeta slowly echoed, his eyes narrowed and hard. To the principal's credit, he didn't break eye contact, though he did start to break into a cold sweat. "You're punishing my son by letting him stay home, which is what the boy would rather do than come to this pathetic institution anyways? On what planet does this shit make sense?"

The principal gawked, flabbergasted and at a complete loss for words. Bulma sucked at her teeth, before calmly turning to the Saiyan next to her.

"Vegeta-"

The prince abruptly stood up, turning on his heel and leaving the office altogether before his wife could get his whole name out. Just when he thought he was starting to understand human culture, something like this happened that made no sense at all. He imagined himself at Trunks' age, being "suspended" by Frieza from his Galactic Army for picking a fight that resulted in no casualties, and nearly snorted from the absurdity of it. His son was a decent kid, he hadn't killed anyone, so he failed to see the point of any of this.

Vegeta stepped outside of the office area, into a deserted corridor painted a dull yellow, with crude drawings taped up over the walls between classroom doors. He looked down and to his left, where a nine-year-old lavender-haired boy was sitting on a folding chair, arms crossed firmly over his chest, a scowl firmly on his face. Vegeta looked over to the right, where another half-Saiyan boy was sitting on the other side of the door, pose and expression matching Trunks perfectly. Vegeta exhaled through his nose.

"You're both idiots," he gruffly announced, moving his gaze from Goten to Trunks. "And now both of your mothers are going to be even more insane than usual as they finish preparing for the party this evening, because of the time you've both cost them this morning."

"Tch," Trunks muttered under his breath. "Whatever."

Vegeta's eyes darkened dangerously, and both boys briefly forgot their irritation with each other when they felt the prince's ki rise in anger. Even braced for it, Trunks couldn't move out of the way before Vegeta's strong hand was grasping the back of his neck, practically hauling him up out of his chair. Goten gulped, but he wisely remained seated; he had enough to deal with when Chi-Chi arrived to pick him up, and didn't need Vegeta's anger added on top of that.

"Let me go, Dad! What are you doing?" Trunks cried angrily as Vegeta forced him towards the exit. He tried to shrug out of his father's painful grip on the back of his neck, but the only way to break the hold was to ascend. And with the way his father's ki was practically simmering, he didn't dare do it.

Finally, Vegeta shoved a metal door open and practically threw his son outside. Trunks regained his balance before he could fall on the concrete, and whirled around to face his father, equally angry and his hands balled up into fists.

"You better watch how you talk to me, boy. I'm not Goten," Vegeta growled as he stepped outside. He paused when he noticed the tense stance his son was in, and then raised an eyebrow in curiosity. "Oh, you want to fight me now too, do you? We can, if you'd like, but know this, Trunks. If you want to fight me like a man, be prepared to be treated like one, because I will not hold back."

Trunks' nose twitched a bit, but he knew that his father was no liar. It would be better not to test him, lest he not live to see his tenth birthday. After all, no matter how angry he got, he knew that Vegeta could always get angrier. Forcing himself to take a deep breath, the boy relaxed his stance as he calmed down. Turning slightly away from Vegeta, Trunks brushed at his nose, unable to hide the wince when he did. Goten had landed a good, hard punch square to his face, and he was still feeling it.

Trunks flinched when he felt his father's hand on him, this time cupping his chin. He gulped as Vegeta forced his head back, but while it wasn't exactly a gentle touch, it wasn't the hard grip his father had used moments ago, and he finally started to relax.

"Hn," the prince grunted, forcing his son's head to the side while he examined him. "Nothing broken, it seems. Nose will be bruised in an hour or so. Your mother will _love_ that," he sneered, releasing Trunks and crossing his arms over his chest. "Now are you going to tell me what happened, or would you rather tell your mother?"

Trunks cringed. Neither option was good. He brushed his bangs out of his face, and then turned slightly away from Vegeta as he dwelled on the fight he'd gotten into that morning and what triggered the whole thing. He shook his head and went to speak, but he never got the chance before a shriek cut through the air.

"_Trunks Briefs!" _Bulma yelled, startling both her husband and her son. They both looked over as Bulma stalked up to both of them, and she was not in a good mood. Trunks shrank back a bit, suddenly wishing he'd taken Vegeta on instead as Bulma stood in front of him, her hands on her waist. "What in the world has gotten into you, young man? Did you forget our conversation last year about you not picking fights in school?"

"Welllllll…" Trunks drawled, closing his eyes and forcing a wide smile for his mother while he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. "You said not to fight with the other human kids, and I didn't, Mom. I fought with _Goten, _and he's not human, he's half – OW!" he hollered when Bulma smacked him in the back of the head, immediately clutching his head as though mortally wounded, much to Vegeta's immense disappointment.

"I _know _what Goten is, thank you _very_ much! You're suspended for a week now, a whole week! What were you thinking?" Bulma demanded. Trunks rubbed his head, frowning when he replayed that morning's events and what had set him off. "Well?" Bulma prompted him when he remained silent. "What happened?"

"Ah, it's nothing," Trunks dismissively replied, turning away and wearing a look on his face that Bulma recognized all too well. That was a look of pure stubbornness and brooding anger that the boy had not inherited from her side. Bulma looked over at her husband, who scowled at the look she gave him.

"What now?" Vegeta peevishly demanded.

"Like father, like freakin' son," Bulma mumbled, reaching into her purse and digging for her shades. "Look, I've got a lot I need to get done and things I still need to buy, so Trunks, you'll just have to come along."

"What?" Trunks whined; of all the punishments his parents could bestow on him, going with his mother on a shopping trip ranked among the worst. "But I don't want-"

"Save it, I don't even want to hear it," his mother interrupted as she put on her shades and started heading towards their hoverjet. "You sure aren't going to go home by yourself just to play video games until the party tonight, so you're coming with us, and that's final."

"Oh, so Dad's coming too?" Trunks asked, trying not to sound too hopeful.

"_No." "Yes." – _came the simultaneous answers from his parents. Bulma and Vegeta exchanged a glare, with the prince's lip curling up in disgust. "Woman, I did not agree to this."

"Um, yes you did, this morning in fact. Don't you remember?"

"I-" the prince paused, blinked, and then recalled the reason why they had spent longer than a few minutes in the shower that morning. She had made a request, and he had blindly accepted it in order to enjoy their passion for a while longer. His eyes darkened. "You did not tell me you were planning to go shopping _today_."

"I said to come shopping with me next time, and you said yes, and guess what? It's _next time _now."

"Conniving female," he snarled.

"It's alright, you were distracted and not paying full attention. Who could blame you?" Bulma smugly asked, practically basking in her own beauty as she headed towards her hoverjet. "Come along, boys, we've got a lot to do."

"Do we have to go?" Trunks whispered to his father as they reluctantly followed.

"I suggest you keep your mouth shut, or I'll make sure you accompany your mother on every shopping trip until you're 30 years old," Vegeta growled back. Trunks' mouth immediately snapped shut; he would not tempt his luck with that one.

Still, it was hard not to whine. His mother had allocated two full hours to search for another gift for Gohan and Videl, and if there was an Olympic event for most stores visited in two hours, Bulma would've been a gold medalist. By the fourteenth store, Trunks was bored out of his mind. Not wanting to rock the boat when his parents didn't have him in their crosshairs anymore though, he didn't make a sound of complaint.

His father, however, had no such filter, and while he had accepted his fate (after all, that morning round in the shower was worth it), that didn't mean he couldn't offer his opinions during their little shopping trip. Which he did, readily and freely, much to Bulma's agitation.

"I don't understand how you've been planning this party for a two damn months, but you wait until the day of the actual party to decide on a gift," Vegeta snidely commented.

Bulma picked up a pair of intertwined, white gold based candlesticks that formed a heart. She rolled her eyes at her husband and sighed, "I _told_ you, I already have a gift, but I just wanted to take another look around to make sure I don't spot something better. After all, the gift is from us, so it needs to be good."

The prince scoffed. "What do you mean, the gift is from _us_?"

"Well, we're a family, so of course the gift is going to be from all of us."

"If you're going to give a gift, say it's from you and the boy. Don't put my name on any of this shit."

Bulma put down a porcelain vase covered with hearts to give her husband an irritated look. "Vegeta, if you keep being a jerk, you're going to sleep in one of the guest rooms for a whole month."

The prince dismissively waved off her words, "Calm yourself, woman. I meant that I already have a gift that I am planning to give Gohan specifically to commemorate the occasion."

His words alone would've made her pause, but accompanied with the smirk spreading over his face, Bulma could practically feel the gray hairs sprouting. Her blue eyes narrowed, but she never got the question out before her son spoke up.

"Hey Mom, can I have a little brother?"

The needle completely scratched off the record as both Vegeta and Bulma turned to look over at their son in shock. Bored to tears, Trunks had wandered a bit from his parents into the next section of the store they were in, a section specifically for parents who were expecting. He proudly showed his parents a small blue shirt for infants, with the lettering "I love my big brother!"

"Look, isn't this cool?" he gushed. "He can wear this, so everyone knows I'm the best big brother ever-"

"Trunks, honey," Bulma gently cut in, "It's a cute shirt, but put it back, please."

Trunks' shoulders fell as he lowered the shirt, giving his mother a pleading look. "But Dad said we could buy a baby, and I know we can afford it, so why can't we buy a boy so I can have a little brother?"

Bulma looked over at Vegeta in bewilderment, but her husband had suddenly found the ceiling design incredibly interesting. "What is he talking about?"

"Nothing, it was an exchange over a year ago before the tournament," the prince curtly responded, crossing his arms firmly over his chest. "Kakarot's harpy fed Goten that garbage about buying infants, and the information was passed on. I simply didn't deny it."

"You're going to have to have _the talk _with him soon," Bulma informed him under her breath, making him scoff and drawing his direct eye contact.

"Woman, I don't think so. _You're _going to have that talk with him, not me."

"That's not how this works, you're his father-"

"Helloooo?" Trunks loudly interrupted, waving his arms out and drawing his parents' attention again. Now standing right in front of them, he frowned and put both hands on his hips, reminding Vegeta that no matter how strong he would become, he would always be his mother's son. "Can we buy a little brother for me, or not?"

"That's not exactly how it works, sweetheart," Bulma explained, before giving him a knowing smile. "Besides, you have to make amends with the brother you already have before we talk about bringing a new one into the picture."

"But Goten isn't my brother, he's my fr- well, we aren't friends anymore," Trunks announced, defiantly looking away. He tried to look as indifferent as his father usually did, but he couldn't quite pull it off yet and wound up sulking instead. "I'm never talking to him, never again, not ever," he added for good measure, lest his parents not take him seriously.

"Okay," Bulma easily responded, making Trunks blink in shock.

"Okay?" the boy echoed, unable to hide his confusion. Where was the lecturing? Where was the effort to convince him that he was wrong? "That's it?"

"Well sure, if that's how you feel," Bulma explained, affectionately ruffling Trunks' lavender hair. "If you don't want to talk to Goten anymore, that's fine…but you're still not getting out of a good punishment for getting suspended from school. Now come on, I think we'll go check out the furniture store, maybe look over the loveseats!"

Trunks looked over at his father who seemed disinterested in their conversation, and then looked back at his mother, but Bulma was a woman on a mission and was already ushering both of her boys out to make good time. He waited a while, wondering if either of his parents would mention Goten again, but minutes slipped by and his name wasn't brought up again. The lack of lecturing on the whole issue confused him, but on the flip side, the acceptance of his wishes also made him feel good. It was nice to know that his parents, unconventional and weird as they were, had his back no matter what-

"Do you hear me calling you, boy?" Vegeta shouted.

Trunks blinked and looked up, seeing that his parents were already near the closest mall exit to their hoverjet. His father was effortlessly balancing an enormous, black leather loveseat on one hand, to the shock of everyone walking past, and Bulma was busy yelling at someone on her cell phone. Not wanting to be a hold up, Trunks sprinted over.

"So _that's_ a loveseat," Trunks commented as the three stepped out into the parking lot. "When I get married, will you guys buy me one too?"

"First you want a brother, now you want a wife and a loveseat. What next, boy? You want your own island?" Vegeta deadpanned, making Trunks' eyes widen in excitement.

"Oh man an island would be soooo COOL!" the boy shouted happily, earning a low growl of annoyance from his father.

"Vegeta, quit," Bulma said as she hung up, though she was smiling as she slipped her sunglasses back on. "Trunks, stop getting suspended and then we'll talk about buying islands for you. Now take the loveseat and capsulize it. There are spare capsules in the hoverjet. You can turn the jet on too, while you're at it."

"Alriiiight," Trunks sighed, shoulders slumping. Vegeta quickly flicked him over the loveseat with a jerk of his wrist, sending the loveseat flying towards his son at superhuman speed. Trunks had barely caught it when Bulma tossed him her keys too. It took a second for the boy to find his balance, before he sprinted off ahead of them.

"Surprised you didn't practically coerce the boy into making amends with Goten," Vegeta commented when his son was halfway across the parking lot.

"I wanted to," Bulma admitted, casually linking her arm with Vegeta's. The prince scowled in disapproval at the contact, his back stiffening a bit. He hated any kind of public affection, but he supposed this was tolerable as long as the woman didn't take it any further. Bulma noticed his discomfort, but ignored it as she continued, "But he had that look that you get sometimes, so I let it go."

Vegeta's scowl worsened. "The _look_ I get?"

"Yeah, that stubborn look where I know that nothing I say will matter because I can't change your mind. He had the same look, so I didn't push. He'll come around…just like you always have."

The prince grunted in disinterest, looking away and missing the smile Bulma was offering him. He felt her hold on his arm tighten as she got just a little closer to him while they continued walking together. Neither said anything else as they crossed the parking lot over to where their son was impatiently waiting for them, but Vegeta's posture had considerably relaxed by the time they got there.

Over the years, Bulma had learned just how much to push her husband; that's why after they had a hearty family lunch, she told Vegeta he could leave and come back later once the party had actually started. She correctly figured that letting the prince go home for a few hours to be alone and recharge would be the best thing for everyone involved, since the party was going to run late. Vegeta didn't utter a word of protest, turning around and leaving before the words were barely out of his wife's mouth.

Trunks wasn't so lucky; he was stuck helping his mother with all the details for the party of the century, but Vegeta wasn't inclined to save him from that fate. After all, the boy had to learn to take his punishments like a man.

The trip home would've been necessary for Vegeta either way, since he had to pick up his own personal engagement gift for the couple. He had the gift tucked in one of his pockets as he walked into the reception hall later that evening. The prince's nose instantly crinkled in disgust; there were _so many people _there milling about, that he couldn't help but wonder how many of them actually knew Gohan and Videl personally. He certainly didn't recognize anyone.

He sighed and made his way through the dim-lit hall, trying to ignore the awful music that was playing overhead as he searched for the groom-to-be. The sooner he could give Gohan his gift, the sooner he could head towards the open bar-

Goku suddenly popped in out of nowhere, inches in front of the prince, startling the older Saiyan half to death. "Hey, Vegeta!" he cheerfully greeted.

"Goddamnit, Kakarot!" Vegeta hissed, trying to bring his blood pressure back down. He looked around, but no one seemed to notice Goku's sudden appearance. "How many times have I told you not to do that?"

"Not to do what?" Goku asked curiously, making the prince close his eyes and pinch the bridge of his nose.

"Where is your oldest spawn?" he finally demanded.

"Oh, Gohan? He's over there dancing with Videl, they're having a ton of fun! Hey, I bet you don't know how to dance, huh Vegeta?"

"Saiyans don't _dance._"

"Well, that's not true! I can dance! Chi-Chi taught me…sorta."

"May the gods help us all," Vegeta mumbled in disgust, making Goku laugh.

"Hey! Did you hear about that fight Goten and Trunks got into?"

"I'm aware of the situation, yes."

"Chi-Chi's mighty mad about it."

Vegeta snorted. "Mine wasn't pleased either."

"Do you think we should get the boys together so they can talk it out?"

"No. Let the two handle it themselves. They'll never learn otherwise."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Goku conceded, before he caught sight of someone in the distance and raised a hand to wave at them. "Hey, Krillin and Yamcha have a table just for us, want to come?" Vegeta shook his head. "Alright, but if you change your mind, you know where we're at!" Goku cheerfully informed the prince.

Vegeta opened his mouth to make a snide comment, but the younger Saiyan disappeared before he could. Years with that damn teleporting technique, and he _still_ hadn't gotten used to it. The prince sighed, and was going to resume his search for Gohan, when luck broke on his side.

"Vegeta!" Gohan called out, immediately drawing the prince's attention. The prince turned around as the half-Saiyan jogged up to him. Gohan was wiping sweat off his brow with his forearm, his shirt starting to dampen with sweat from his dancing. "Hey, I'm really glad you made it! Bulma said you'd be in later, but I wasn't sure," he said, smiling widely.

"Of course I was going to make it," Vegeta responded, looking Gohan over. Amazing to think the man before him was the same kid who had cowered behind Piccolo so many years ago. Looking at him now, practically feeling how happy Gohan was, it finally eased his agitation with the party. After all the life and death battles they'd fought, beside each other and against each other, Gohan deserved this. He offered the closest thing to a smile that he was going to muster up that evening, putting a hand on Gohan's shoulder.

"Now kid, pay attention. You remember what I told you about marriage?"

"Huh?" Gohan asked, blinking as he tried racking his brain, but he drew a blank and wound up giving Vegeta a confused look. "When was this?"

"I take that as a no," Vegeta chuckled, releasing his grip on the half-Saiyan's shoulder to reach into his pocket. "I told you years ago that once you became a man and got yourself a woman of your own, you could have this. That time has come."

"Oh…thank you, Vegeta," a red-faced Gohan said as he took the ki-draining handcuffs that the prince was offering him. "Yeah, I uh, I remember now."

"Remember, marriage is about compromise."

"Yeah, ah, thank you for the uh, the gift. I'm sure Videl will, um...enjoy this."

"Hn," Vegeta grunted, patting Gohan on the shoulder again in approval.

Having completed his task, he turned around and headed over by where Goku was seated with his Earthling friends – only because Bulma had joined them now. He went over, noting that all of them were already having drinks and laughing it up. Without a word, Vegeta took the only seat available next to Bulma, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Hey stranger, you made it," Bulma teased, sliding a beer over to her husband. He grunted and took the glass, chugging it all in one shot. "Did you get your gift for Gohan?" Vegeta put the glass down and offered her a smirk, making her shake her head. "You know what, I don't even want to know."

They all laughed, all except for Goku, who was staring off at a boy across the party who was sulking against the wall. On the opposite wall was another boy, equally sullen. Turning back to the group, he mused aloud, "Guys, I think we should do something about Goten and Trunks."

"Oh yeah, I heard about that fight," Krillin chimed in, raising his drink. "We were here helping Chi-Chi get the tables and everything ready when she got that call. What happened?"

"I don't know, Trunks didn't want to talk about it."

"Neither did Goten," Goku confessed, looking directly at Vegeta. The prince met his eye and scowled.

"What? I told you to let them work it out themselves."

"They're both pretty miserable right now though."

"Good. They deserve it for being two idiots," Vegeta grumbled, reaching for another drink as Bulma rubbed his arm.

"Hon, maybe we _should_ talk to Trunks," she whispered to him.

The prince gave her an incredulous look. "You were the one who suggested we let them resolve it themselves."

"I'm not saying we fix this for him, he needs to do that himself," Bulma clarified. "But I honestly didn't think they would make it this far into the party without talking. Maybe a little nudge is what he needs."

"Whatever," Vegeta gruffly responded, chugging his drink back. "Handle it then, female."

"It can't always be me dealing with every crisis, Vegeta." The prince looked over at his wife, making eye contact with her as neither paid attention to the conversation continuing at their table. "He's getting older, he's going to need to hear things from you more, especially when he gets to his teenage years. It can't always come from Mom, you know."

Vegeta subtly leaned in closer to her, under the guise that he couldn't hear her over the music even though he heard her just fine. It was true, perhaps 90 percent of the problems Trunks had were resolved by Bulma before Vegeta even noticed them. Still, even though he acknowledged his wife was right with his ensuing silence, he honestly didn't know what to tell Trunks regarding this issue the boy had with Goten. He'd never had "problems" with friends; hell, he barely had any "friends" to begin with. For all he knew, he'd make things worse.

"It's alright, I'll handle it," Bulma finally whispered to him, reading his discomfort perfectly. She rubbed his shoulder a little and went to stand up, when he stood up first.

"No," Vegeta said firmly. He reached down for a third beer and chugged all of it in seconds. Once he was finished, he put the empty bottle back down and nodded. "I will handle it. Heavens know you will only coddle the boy more," he mockingly added.

"He doesn't get that stubbornness from my side!" Bulma snapped as Vegeta turned away with an amused smirk.

That smirk quickly disappeared though as he weaved his way over to where his son was leaning up against the wall, arms crossed over his chest and a pissed off look on his face. Vegeta recognized that look, and finally saw what Bulma meant. Yes, he might not have been intimately familiar with the human issues that would come up in Trunks' life, but he was still his son and was starting to react to things just like the prince would have, once upon a time. Instead of filling him with pride over how much his son was starting to take after him, the thought almost gave Vegeta a migraine.

Going over next to his son, Vegeta easily mimicked his pose, leaning back against the wall and lifting one knee up to prop the bottom of his foot up on the wall too. Trunks eyed his dad out of the corner of his eye, wondering what the prince would say. But Vegeta said nothing, just stared ahead with an unwavering, intense glare that didn't seem directed at anyone in particular.

"Are you planning to do this all night, boy?" he finally demanded, getting his son's full attention.

"Huh? Do what?" a genuinely confused Trunks asked.

"This. Standing back here, bitter and angry. That's something I do, and it's not worth imitating," Vegeta gruffly stated, shifting his intense glare to his son, who had to fight not to visibly shrink back. "What are you doing, Trunks?"

"Uh, nothing…"

"That's exactly the problem. You're here, miserable. Your other demon half is standing over there, also miserable. Put both of yourselves out of your misery and make your amends, and move on with your lives."

"But he made me so mad, he…"

"He what?"

"Ah, it doesn't matter."

"If it doesn't matter, then why not make your amends and be done with this nonsense?"

Trunks searched for a way to make his father understand. Finally, he squared his shoulders back, and looked his father right in the eye, giving the answer that had been drilled into him since he was a toddler. "Cause I got my pride too, Dad."

Vegeta's eyes narrowed as he stared at his son for so long, the boy almost lost his nerve. To his credit though, Trunks didn't look away. Finally, after what seemed like a millennium, his father snorted.

"Yes, you do. As a warrior in battle, nothing is more important than your own pride," the prince conceded, looking straight ahead again as Trunks relaxed. Convinced that Vegeta understood exactly where he was coming from, the young half-Saiyan was completely caught off guard by his father's next words.

"But as a man, that's not the case. You can take my word for it, or you can learn the hard way, like I did. That's your choice, Trunks. I won't make it for you."

Without waiting for a response, the prince turned and walked away. Moments later, Vegeta was taking his seat again near his wife, who was currently chatting with a rich businessman who did work for Hercule. 18 and Krillin had already departed, and Yamcha and his new girlfriend, along with Goku and Chi-Chi, were accompanying Gohan and Videl on the dance floor. That alone had Vegeta reaching for another beer.

"Hey you," Bulma greeted moments later when the businessman walked away, looking over at her husband. She gave him a wide smile. "I see it went well."

"Hn?" The prince looked over, frowning when he saw that his son had moved from his sulking location. Glancing over, he saw that Trunks was slowly headed in Goten's direction. The prince snorted, looking back at his wife. "Of course it did," he arrogantly replied. "Did you expect anything different?"

Her smile grew as she leaned in and kissed his cheek. Vegeta scowled at her, wiping his face. "Woman, not in public," he growled. "Contain yourself."

"You're such a good dad, you know."

Vegeta's scowl turned into a look of surprise, and then suspicion as he surveyed the drinks spread over the table. "Are you drunk?" he bluntly asked.

Bulma's smile disappeared as she punched the Saiyan in the shoulder. "No, jerk, I'm not drunk. Geez! Can't even give a freakin' compliment around here."

"Whatever."

"But seriously, you really are great with him."

Vegeta shrugged indifferently, uncomfortable with the praise as he went to knock back another beer. This time though, Bulma grabbed his hand to stop him. He raised a confused eyebrow as she scooted her chair closer to his, leaning close enough so their shoulders were almost touching.

"What do you think about what Trunks asked earlier?" she finally prompted, pulling his hand off the beer bottle to cradle it in hers.

"What?" Vegeta asked, thoroughly confused.

"You know, when he asked for a little brother."

Vegeta blinked, and then scoffed. "Tch, stupid idea. I am done with children." Bulma's face fell a little, and she was unable to hide her disappointment. He caught the look on her face and looked even more confused. "What? I thought you didn't want any more either."

"Well, we've never really talked about it."

"I think we did our talking when you refused to have sex with me after Trunks was born unless I wore a condom," he remarked, unable to hide the twinge of bitterness that seeped into his tone over the memory.

Bulma snickered a little. "A lot has changed since then, Vegeta."

"Oh? Like what?" he challenged, pulling his hand free from hers to grab his beer bottle again. There was a sudden round of applause from the hundreds of people in attendance as Gohan spun Videl around romantically on the dance floor, and Bulma diverted her attention momentarily to clap along while Vegeta chugged his beer. The prince could feel himself getting buzzed, and he pleasantly licked his lips to savor the taste as Bulma finally turned back to him.

"Well, we're married for one. I think that's a pretty big change."

"Bulma," Vegeta sighed, looking at her in exasperation. "One is enough and we are struggling to handle him as it is. I don't want more."

"I know, but it's just, I just started thinking after he asked that maybe it'd be better for Trunks not to be an only child-"

"Woman, are you not hearing me? _I – don't – want – more – children_."

Bulma sighed, seeing that look on Vegeta's face that she'd seen on Trunks' earlier. She nodded, accepting his position, knowing she should have anticipated his response. It had taken him a while to warm up to the mere _idea_ of having a son, and they still used birth control on the regular. As much as she knew that Vegeta loved Trunks (even if he never said it), she should have known that he was still vehemently against fathering more children. She herself would have agreed, if it wasn't for the image of Trunks beaming and holding up a baby shirt that didn't leave her mind.

"Alright, it was just a thought based on what the kiddo asked earlier today," she relented, rubbing Vegeta's arm and forcing the image out of her head. "We've got Trunks, and he's enough, huh?"

"More than enough," Vegeta grumbled, looking over to his son who was now laughing with Goten, as though their fight had never happened. "Pain in the ass kid."

"If you think he's a pain now, wait until he's a teenager," she teased.

Vegeta shook his head in defeat and reached for another beer as Bulma laughed. The talks about a sibling for Trunks vanished as they enjoyed the rest of the evening in a party that would be talked about for weeks.

Still, Bulma held out a sliver of hope that maybe, _just maybe,_ one day Vegeta would come around on this too.


	5. Valentine's Day

**A/N:** hi. :) I'm still here. Thank you guys for all your support and never-ending patience and I hope you guys like this. This was supposed to be a Valentine's Day update, sorry it's late!

/

Bulma knew the day wasn't going to be typical when she went into her son's bedroom to wake the boy up for school, only to find that he was already up. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion when she noticed the light under the door of Trunks' personal bathroom. Trunks being up this early just to go to school? That was a first. Thinking maybe the boy was sick, she went up to the bathroom door and knocked.

"Hey kiddo, you alright in there?"

"I'm fine!" Trunks called back, sounding agitated.

"You sure?"

"Gosh, Mom, I said I'm fine!" Trunks snapped.

"Hey buddy, you better watch that tone!" Bulma warned, earning a loud sigh from the boy on the other side of the door.

"Sorry," he muttered, this time sounding distracted. Bulma's brow furrowed in both curiosity and concern, but she decided not to press on the matter. Yet.

"Alright, I'll see you downstairs for breakfast in twenty minutes?"

"Definitely," Trunks responded, staying quiet while he heard his mother leave his room.

When he was sure that she was gone, he turned back to the mirror in his bedroom and back to the matter at hand. The eleven-year-old boy was kneeling on the bathroom counter, his face inches from the mirror, biting his lips in concentration. Both of his hands were covered in hair gel as he furiously ran them up into his lavender hair, trying his hardest to spike his hair. But damn if his hair wasn't stubborn. Trunks grit his teeth, resisting the urge to ascend to Super Saiyan. Doing so would only get his father's attention, and he didn't want any extra attention from Vegeta that morning. But holy crap, how did actors ever style their hair like this in the movies? Or better yet, why couldn't he have gotten the natural spikes his dad had, instead of inheriting his grandfather's hair?

Trunks paused scrubbing the hair gel in to wonder what he would look like with Vegeta's hair. He cringed when he realized he would just look like a little miniature of his father, and decided maybe his fate wasn't so bad after all.

"Something's up with your son," Bulma informed her husband as she walked into the kitchen a few minutes later. Vegeta grunted with indifference, raising his mug of hot coffee up for another drink as he read over the newspaper in his other hand. "Earth to Vegeta," Bulma announced loudly, making her husband finally look up at her in irritation. "Did you not hear me?"

"I'm certain everyone in the galaxy can hear you, loud wench," he sneered, raising his mug for another drink. "Besides, the boy's ki is normal. There is nothing to be concerned about."

"Feels like I'm the only sane one around here," Bulma grumbled to herself as she poured herself her own mug of coffee. "Well, since tomorrow is Valentine's Day, I'll just ask him then."

Vegeta shook his head at the reminder. Valentine's Day, yet another Earth tradition he didn't understand, and one he refused to participate in. A day to spend with the woman he married? He spent every day with her as it was. No matter how many times Bulma had tried explaining why it was a special day, he didn't understand, nor did he care to. It seemed to him to be another day to give the woman what she wanted, but she already had her birthday, their wedding anniversary, and Christmas. How many days did the woman need?

Fortunately, it seemed that after the first few years of their marriage, Bulma had finally given up on making Valentine's Day a thing between them, letting him off the hook. She therefore turned the day into one she would share with her other true love, her son, Trunks. Over the years, mother and son would enjoy Valentine's Day by getting a nice dinner out, just the two of them. It had become a nice tradition and one that worked for their unique family.

Vegeta closed his eyes when he suddenly detected a new ki approaching, raising his cup of coffee again. "The other brat just arrived," he gruffly announced.

"Goten?" Bulma asked, going over to peer out the window. "Good, breakfast should be ready in a bit."

"Must that boy always come in?" Vegeta growled. "He could just as easily wait for Trunks outside."

"Oh quit it, you love Goten," Bulma teased, leaving the kitchen to go let their guest in. Vegeta lowered his mug and exhaled slowly through his nose, reminding himself that killing anyone the day before Valentine's Day would be in extremely poor taste. He muttered to himself in his native language, before raising his newspaper again. Hopefully, if he looked like he was busy, the boy would take a hint and not speak to him.

"Hiya Vegeta!" Goten happily greeted him as he ran into the kitchen. Vegeta ignored him, as usual, holding up his newspaper high enough so that only his hair above it was visible. That didn't stop Goten from taking the seat next to him, dropping his backpack over the back of the chair. "Oh, I didn't know you read the newspaper," he commented, tilting his head in curiosity. He leaned up, trying to see what the prince was reading. "Checking out sport scores?"

"I am reading over all the murders that happened over the last day, and if you don't shut up, you'll be the next story," Vegeta gruffly informed the boy, not bothering to lower the newspaper. Goten blinked; for all the years he had spent in Vegeta's house, sometimes he was still caught off guard by the prince's bluntness. Bulma chuckled and patted his back, drawing his attention away.

"Don't mind him. My bots should have breakfast should be ready soon, if you haven't already eaten."

"Oh, thanks!" Goten said, smiling as he took a seat. "I've already had breakfast, but I wouldn't mind a little more!" He glanced up at a clock on the wall, then looked down at his own watch. "Hm. Trunks isn't ready yet?"

"He should be down soon. If he isn't, I'll send his father after him."

"Makes sense. He's gotta look good for his new girlfriend!" Goten happily announced. Vegeta didn't react even as Bulma spun back around to face Goten, her eyes wide.

"What? Girlfriend? Trunks has a girlfriend? Since when?" she demanded. Goten blinked a few times, realizing his mistake. He forced a chuckle, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck.

"Ah, did I say girlfriend?" he forced a laugh. Bulma's ice cold glare though quickly melted his spine and he lowered his arm, laying both palms on the table and forcing himself to swallow.

"Are you listening to this?" Bulma demanded, shifting her attention to her husband. Vegeta grunted with indifference, making Bulma sigh as she turned back to Goten. "Young man, you go upstairs and get Trunks down here, _now._"

"Yes ma'am," Goten immediately answered, disappearing in a flash up towards his best friend's room. Bulma watched him go, and then turned back to her husband. Without a word of warning, she snatched the newspaper right out of his hands. The prince's eyes widened as he looked up at his wife.

"Wake up, Vegeta, before I add you to the murder count."

Vegeta rolled his eyes, dismissively waving her off with one hand while he reached for his mug with the other. "Whatever. Where's the food?"

"Goten is sitting here saying that your eleven-year-old son has a girlfriend, and you don't care?"

"He has lots of female friends, what is the problem?" Vegeta demanded, trying hard to mask his confusion but unable to keep the subtle look from crossing his face for a second. Unfortunately, the only person on the planet who could catch the look was the one staring right at him.

Bulma exhaled, grabbing her own mug of coffee, though at the moment she would have preferred some strong liquor. "No, Vegeta. A girlfriend is a girl that he'd be dating, remember? Just like with Gohan and Videl, how before they got married, she was his girlfriend."

Vegeta stared back at her, the mask on his face unreadable. Finally, he snorted. "Woman, calm yourself, it's likely a childish infatuation. I highly doubt he wants to fuck the female."

"Vegeta!" Bulma hissed. He raised an eyebrow, this time not bothering to hide his confusion.

"What?" he asked in bewilderment, right as the two boys appeared in the kitchen. Bulma and Vegeta both turned towards the boys, and both of their jaws dropped.

"Okay, Mom, Dad, look-"

"Trunks," Bulma started, blinking slowly. "What did you-"

"I don't have a real girlfriend or anything," Trunks blurted out. He forced a huge smile on his face, waving his hands innocently. "There's a girl at school, and she's cute, but that's it, and-"

"What the fuck did you do to your hair, boy?" Vegeta demanded.

"Oh," Trunks said, suddenly turning red. He shrugged, looking up toward the ceiling as though he could see his hair. Of course, he couldn't, because it was standing straight up, the light lavender color now a dark purple and glistening with hair gel. "Well, ah, I just wanted to try something new!"

"Hana thinks boys with spiky hair are cute," Goten chimed in, earning a hard fist on the top of his head from Trunks. "Yowch, Trunks!" he hollered, glaring at his friend.

"Shut up!" Trunks hissed.

"You did this to your hair because of a girl?" Bulma incredulously asked, cringing as she looked at the mess he'd made of his hair. It looked like a purple explosion had transpired on her son's head.

"Wellllll, it wasn't TOTALLY because of her, but um, Valentine's Day is tomorrow and I wanted to ask her to be my Valentine, and I wanted to look good!" Trunks excitedly explained.

"I'm going to train. I will eat later," Vegeta announced, standing up with his coffee and newspaper. As far as he was concerned, a Valentine's Day issue was a human issue, and the woman could handle it. Besides, if he had to look at that hideous hair his son was sporting for much longer, he was liable to tear it all off or burn it all off, but he figured that would also be in poor taste, at least so close to the boy's annual Valentine's Day dinner with his mother.

"Vegeta!" Bulma yelled after him, but the prince had already made his hasty retreat. And he wasn't the only one with escape on the brain.

"Hey Mom, I'm gonna be late for school, I gotta go, I'll see you when I get home!" Trunks said in one rushed breath. Using his supernatural speed and fully aware that he was going to be in big trouble later for leaving with the discussion unresolved, he instantly grabbed a surprised Goten by the back of the shirt and flew off dragging the younger boy with him.

"Trunks Briefs, don't you DARE leave with your hair like that-!" the door shut behind both boys, making Bulma put her hands on her hips and scoff in disbelief. "That little shit," she muttered under her breath, stealing her husband's private nickname for their son.

But no one left Bulma Briefs hanging, not her husband, and damn sure not her eleven-year-old son.

Five hours later, Vegeta was doing pushups outside in the bright sunlight as he cooled down from his morning workout in the gravity room. His sweat was dripping into the fresh grass as his body slowly adjusted back to Earth's gravity; just a few more minutes and then he could shower and – most importantly – eat. Skipping breakfast was rare for him, and he was absolutely famished. But if there was one thing that would always trump his hunger, it was his discipline. He wouldn't eat until he finished what he was doing.

The prince growled low in his throat when he heard the cell phone near him start vibrating in the grass. Only two people on the planet had the number, and one of those people was in school. Smoothly switching to one handed pushups without breaking his flawless rhythm and technique, the prince reached over and grabbed the phone.

"What," he angrily demanded.

"Don't 'what' me, jackass. Can't your gorgeous wife call you during the day? Other men could only be so lucky to have someone like me calling them," Bulma smugly informed him.

"Hn. My wife only calls me when she wants me to do something or take care of something before she comes home from work."

"Well, maybe I do want something."

He growled low, "Out with it, then."

"I want you."

_That_ certainly got his attention, making him stop his methodical pushups. Vegeta slowly moved over so he was sitting on the grass, suddenly intrigued. "Is that so?" he asked, his voice cocky as he smirked. "Other women could only be so lucky to have a husband like me that they could call whenever they're in the mood."

"Easy, I just want to get lunch with my sexy husband. No time for a quickie today, hot stuff. You'll just have to wait til later for that."

Vegeta exhaled, his face slowly burning in embarrassment. "Vulgar woman," he muttered.

Bulma laughed outright, "Right, anyway, meet me for lunch?"

"Hn. Whatever."

"Great, I'm by Trunks' school."

Thirty minutes later, Vegeta was walking down the sidewalk across from Trunks' school, having stuffed his hair under a baseball cap. He tried to keep the bewilderment off his face when he approached the strange car Bulma was in. Even though he recognized her ki, the prince still peered down through the glass to make sure it really was his wife. He did a double take when he saw that her blue hair was nowhere to be seen, curled blonde curls replacing them. Vegeta's nose twitched as he opened the passenger door and climbed into the car, slamming the door shut after him.

"Can you not slam the doors please? This rental cost a pretty penny, you know!" Bulma told him in exasperation, lowering her sunglasses a bit to peer at him. "Where are your shades?"

"What the hell did you do to your hair?" Vegeta demanded, wondering what had gotten into his family when it came to their hair. If they expected him to change his hair, _ever, _they were both going to be supremely disappointed.

"Nothing, it's a wig," Bulma answered with a smirk, smugly tossing her hair back. Vegeta unconsciously relaxed at the news. His wife had changed her hairstyle many times over the years, and he had never cared because it was always the color he liked the most. "Now remember, we're in a covert operation right now, so don't raise your ki."

Vegeta blinked, wondering if his wife had finally lost her mind. It was only then that he noticed the enormous binoculars on her lap. When he followed her line of sight towards the children in the schoolyard, one of whom was his son, he leaned his head back and groaned.

"Woman, you cannot be serious right now."

"Hey, we need to find out just who this _Hana _girl is, buddy," Bulma told him matter-of-factly. "There are lots of people who would just love to see me, or Capsule Corp, fail. One of them could've sent this kid to get close to Trunks, to find out my trade secrets."

Vegeta snorted. "And your solution is to what? Stalk the female child?"

"There's nothing wrong with getting some intel," she argued. Vegeta thoughtfully considered her words for a few moments, before snickering.

"Woman, you are just being paranoid. This is all nothing but a motherly crisis because the boy is maturing. Get used to it, woman. Before you know it, he'll be a man with a family of his own."

Bulma sighed deeply, looking over to where Trunks was playing with his classmates. "Yeah, he is growing up," she relented. "But you know what that means. It's time, Vegeta."

"Damn right it's time. Time to eat. Drive, woman, and take us to the nearest place with food," the Saiyan ordered.

"No, I mean it's time you have the talk with him."

He raised an eyebrow. "Talk?"

"You know, about sex, how babies are made, everything a young man needs to know."

"You must be joking," Vegeta snorted. Bulma reached up and removed her shades so they would be making clear eye contact, and after a few seconds, he realized she was dead serious. The prince scowled. "Why the hell would I ever talk to him about that? _I _never got a _talk, _I just figured it out on my own, like a real man."

"Sweetheart, I love you, but I'd rather our son not go down any path you went down when you were his age."

Vegeta's scowl worsened as he looked straight ahead, reflecting back on that time. Life had been savage, brutal and raw in those days. It was nothing that he ever wanted for his son. Bulma watched the way his eyes started getting distant, before reaching over and gently taking his hand in hers. The prince looked away from her completely, staring out his passenger window. He didn't return the hold, but he didn't pull his hand away either.

"He needs to learn how things work. He's got his first real crush, and while this one might be innocent-"

"-so innocent that you are here in disguise to spy on him?" he snidely interrupted.

Bulma scowled. "_Anyway," _she snapped, "that's not the point. The point is that it's his first crush and I'm sure that he'll have many more, so best to arm him with the right knowledge now."

"You talk about it like it's a battle."

"Love is a battle, baby," she teased. Vegeta rolled his eyes, not taking her bait. Bulma's smile waned and she tightened her grip on his hand. "Vegeta, what is it? Talk to me."

Vegeta considered his words carefully, before musing, "You know as much about this as I do. Why don't you just talk to the boy instead?"

"Well I definitely could, but hon, it'd be easier for him to hear it from his dad."

That was definitely true, he silently conceded that. He didn't need to look back to feel his son's ki, vibrant and dominant among his friends. The boy really was growing up, and his wife was right, this was only the beginning. But the extent of knowledge he had to pass down to Trunks involved combat and survival, not how to resolve conflicts with friends, approach girls, or navigate through school. His son might have had Saiyan blood but he was growing up in a human world, and he needed a father who understood that world. Unfortunately for the boy, he didn't have that father. Vegeta raised his free hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes as he did.

"It'll be okay, you'll see. You're not the first man to have to do this for his son. You'll be alright," Bulma assured him. Vegeta lowered his hand and turned his head to make eye contact with her, earning him her best smile, a reminder of a promise made nearly a decade ago that he wouldn't be alone in this. For the moment, his worries were eased.

Vegeta scoffed, pulling his hand away from hers to cross his arms over his chest as he glared straight ahead. "Of course I will. Now let's get some goddamn food already," he impatiently ordered. He surely wasn't going to have that conversation with Trunks on an empty stomach.

Bulma's smile only spread as she turned the car on. "Alright, alright…"

Later that day, Trunks slowly pushed open the front door to the compound, peering inside. He did a ki sweep and determined that his father was in the gravity room. That was good, his dad wouldn't notice him sneaking in. His mother, on the other hand, was-

-suddenly right next to him, her hand on his ear as she hauled him inside. Trunks howled in surprise as he stumbled in, grimacing at the pain in his ear. At the moment, he was wondering if the woman really was human. That grip on his ear hurt like hell.

"Ow, Mom!" he cried out. Bulma released him, and Trunks gulped as he stared up at her. His mother was still taller than him, and in that moment, it felt like she was looming, making her even more intimidating than she already was. In retrospect, he should've just flown straight to his bedroom window and snuck in that way.

"Young man, today was the first and the last time that you run off without us ending a conversation, got it?" Bulma sternly informed him, poking him in the shoulder. Trunks instantly nodded, looking down.

"I'm sorry," he muttered.

"If you're sorry, then listen to what I'm going to tell you. One, if you want to spike your hair, talk to me and I'll help you spike it. Believe me, kid, no one in this family knows how to look good more than I do. Two, you don't need to change any part of how you look to make a girl like you. You hear me?"

"Uh huh," Trunks nodded, before beaming up at his mother, eager to change the subject. "Can we go out later and buy Valentine's Day cards, please? I want to buy one for Hana."

"You have to talk to your father first, then we'll go."

Trunks' smile fell, replaced with a look of concern as he gulped again. "I'm still in trouble?" he warily asked.

"No," Bulma chuckled, smiling a little as she ruffled his gel-laden hair atrocity. "But you do need to talk to him. Come find me when you're done, and we'll go get your Valentine's Day cards."

"Awesome, thanks Mom," Trunks sighed in relief. Bulma leaned down and kissed him on the cheek, uncaring that she was leaving lipstick on the boy. He smiled at her before she left the room, and then figured he might as well go see his dad right away. Besides, the sooner he got it over with, the sooner they could go buy cards.

A minute later, and Trunks was walking up the ramp to the gravity chamber. He levitated up to peer in through the oval glass portal, expecting to see his father rigorously training. The boy blinked in surprise though when he saw that Vegeta was sitting down on the floor, cross-legged, looking over some documentation with intense concentration. Curious, he levitated closer to the glass to try to make out what his father was reading that was more important than his afternoon training session, making sure to keep his ki undetectable.

_You going to come in, or are you just going to stare?_ Vegeta demanded telepathically without looking up from what he was reading, startling his son.

_I was trying to hide my ki, how'd you know I was here? _Trunks asked in astonishment. The prince scoffed.

_You have a lot to learn, boy. _

_Mom said you wanted to talk?_

_Yes, but go shower first. I don't want to see you with that ridiculous hair._

_Huh, kind of weird, considering your hairstyle, _Trunks accidentally projected, his eyes widening in fear when Vegeta looked up with a dark, murderous look in his eyes. He had meant to keep that thought to himself; he sorely needed to practice his telepathy more. _Ah, I mean—I'm gonna go shower now! _Trunks nervously projected, instantly vanishing from sight.

Vegeta exhaled slowly through his nose, shaking his head. He looked back down at the printouts he had for reference- "How to Talk to Your Son About Sex", "Giving Your Kid THE TALK", "Explaining Sex to Children". Bulma had been right, affirming what he had known his whole life: intel was always of the utmost importance, and he was going to be prepared. Still, he rubbed at one of his temples in exasperation. He was going to need some alcohol to get through this.

Half an hour later, a freshly showered Trunks was bounding down the stairs. His hair definitely felt lighter, and though he hadn't minded his crazy haired look, he hadn't felt completely right with it. His usual look was much better, and he mentally agreed with what Bulma had told him earlier. No sense in changing what he liked about his appearance for anyone else.

Trunks did a ki sweep again, and this time placed his father in the kitchen. The boy headed over, raising an eyebrow when he saw that Vegeta was sitting in the adjoining dining room, at the head of the table with a bowl of fruit in the middle of said table.

"Oh sweet, snacks!" Trunks happily exclaimed, immediately heading over and snatching up a banana. He had barely lifted the banana when Vegeta swiped it from him.

"This fruit is not for eating, boy. Sit down," the prince sternly ordered. "_Now."_

_Aw, crap, I'm in trouble after all, what did I do now? _Trunks anxiously thought to himself as he took a seat on Vegeta's left hand side. _Does he know about that lamp I broke?_

"What lamp?" Vegeta demanded, narrowing his eyes.

"Aw, crap," Trunks hissed to himself. He really was off his telepathy game that day.

"You know what? I don't even want to know," Vegeta muttered, letting his son off the hook for once. After all, Bulma had millions of lamps. If she hadn't noticed that one was broken, then he certainly wasn't going to point it out to her. "That's not the reason why you're here."

"Okay," Trunks replied with a nod, trying not to show how confused he was. "So uh, what did you want to talk about?"

"Son," Vegeta started, squaring his shoulders and making eye contact with the boy next to him, as though he was about to deliver strict orders for a purge. "Soon you're going to start going through changes. You're going to start becoming a man."

"Uh, yeah," Trunks agreed with a nod, wondering why his dad was acting so weird. He eyed the bowl of fruit again. "Can I please just have half of a banana?"

"No you may not, goddamnit," Vegeta snapped, making Trunks sigh. The boy scratched at his ear absent-mindedly as Vegeta cleared his throat. "Now pay attention. What do you know about sex?"

"Oh, yeah, I know what that is," Trunks casually said with a shrug, earning a stunned look from his father.

"You do?"

"Yeah, it's like adult dancing, that's what Goten's parents said when he asked them," Trunks confidently answered. Vegeta's eye started to twitch, and he reached up to rub at his eye, making a mental note to kick Goku in the face in their next sparring session.

"No, that is not right. Kakarot apparently couldn't tell the difference between males and females when he was your age, so do not listen to him about anything involving sex or relationships, understand?" Vegeta gruffly demanded. Trunks nodded, and Vegeta paused momentarily before hesitantly asking, "…You _do _know the difference between a male and a female, don't you?"

"Of course I do," Trunks scoffed, sounding insulted. Relieved, Vegeta nodded. At least he wasn't starting from zero.

"Good. Now, listen. Forget the bullshit about buying babies. That's not where they come from. Infants happen when a man and a woman have sex. Follow so far?"

"Uh, I guess."

"Now, you have a penis; what do women have?"

"Pillows! Duh."

"Right – what? Pillows? What the hell are you talking about?" Vegeta asked in exasperation.

Trunks sighed dramatically, wondering if he had to explain everything to his dad. "You know," Trunks answered, gesturing out in front of his chest, making the motion for breasts. "Pillows. That's what Mom calls 'em. We don't have that."

Vegeta ran one hand down his face, muttering in his foreign language to himself. Reaching over to his six-pack of beer, he pulled a bottle out and ripped off the cap with his teeth. He took a good chug, letting it go down before he deadpanned, "Trunks, they are not called pillows."

"Oh! Right. Gohan called them coconuts once."

Vegeta nearly shattered his bottle of beer as a vein visibly began to throb on his temple. "He did what?"

"Well he didn't know Goten and I were there, we were sneaking up on him to surprise him but he was with Videl. He told her she had nice coconuts and that they tasted good, and we could tell she didn't have a top on, so we figured that's what he meant. We left though, we didn't want to get in trouble."

"Well I'll just file that under information about Gohan I did not need to know," Vegeta drawled, raising his beer for another drink. He chugged the rest of the bottle in one shot, much to the amazement of the boy watching.

"Can I try that? Just a sip?" Trunks eagerly asked.

"Not today, now listen up. I won't get into the technical details or the explicit terminology today. I'm only going to explain the gist so you're not ignorant to how life works, understand? Do you have any questions thus far? No? Good," Vegeta stated, not giving his son a chance to speak as he reached into the bowl of fruit. Trunks had a look of bewilderment on his face as Vegeta pulled out the banana he'd been craving along with a sliced apple.

"First of all, they're not called pillows or coconuts. They are called breasts. But they're not the only difference between men and women. Basically, this is what men have," Vegeta informed his son, raising the banana to be clear. "And this is what women have," he added, raising the apple in his other hand, which had been sliced in a peculiar way.

"We all have bananas?" Trunks asked in confusion while Vegeta peeled the banana.

"I meant, this is what most people have in their pants. This represents a penis," he slowly explained, bringing the banana closer to Trunks.

"Ohhhh!" Trunks exclaimed, nodding. "The banana looks like what we have, and the apple looks like what girls have?"

"Precisely."

"Gross," the boy muttered, looking at the apple in disgust.

Vegeta closed his eyes again, feeling his vein pulsing. "Well, you might change your mind about that later on in your life. Now, shut up and listen. There are different ways you can have sex, but the one that will lead to babies is this." With that, the prince abruptly tried shoving the banana into the apple.

"Fuck," he hissed when the banana became smashed and fell apart at the half. The prince tried to reattach the banana, but it was a lost cause. Trunks winced, one hand unconsciously going over his own crotch.

Vegeta cursed, and then lost his patience as he snarled, "Well, whatever, you get the damn idea, boy. The man inserts his penis into the woman's vagina, and then if the female accepts the seed, there is a baby that comes out of the female however many months later. If you don't want to be a father – which you better not be for a long, _long _time – you take measures to stop it. There are ways to still have sex without making a child. Any questions?"

"Uhhh…why would any guy ever put his penis inside there? That sounds gross," Trunks commented with a disgusted look on his face.

Vegeta snickered at that. "Yes, well, we shall see if you feel the same way a few years from now."

Trunks nodded, realization slowly dawning on him. "So, the baby grows inside the girl? Is that why Mom's stomach was big when she was pregnant with me?"

"Yes, exactly."

"Because you put your penis in Mom?"

Vegeta lowered the smashed fruit he had, reaching for a fresh beer. He grunted in acknowledgement, twisting the cap off, one eye on the clock. On the one hand he wanted this conversation over with as soon as possible, but on the other hand, the more questions he answered now, the less he'd have to answer later.

"So you musta wanted to be a father, otherwise you said you would've done something to stop it, right?"

Vegeta gazed at the boy, forcing his face to stay neutral. No, he had not wanted him, but Trunks didn't need to know all those details, even if the prince's perception had obviously changed since that time. Perhaps someday, when the boy was a man, he could have a man-to-man talk with him. The prince always felt as though he owed Trunks an apology, even if the boy had been too young at the time to be aware of his father's rejection. But he had his hands full with the current line of conversation. That one could wait.

"Right," he finally lied, nodding and forcing back the guilt that came with lying to his son. "When you're mature enough to start wanting to have sex, you come talk to me first. You aren't getting any female pregnant for a long time, understand? I'll tell you what to do when that time comes." Trunks nodded, biting his lower lip thoughtfully, staying silent. Vegeta sighed, "You are just as transparent as your mother. Say what you want to say."

"Well…I was just wonderin'…can you do the sex thing with Mom so she can get pregnant and I can have a little brother?" Trunks eagerly blurted out.

Cracks were spreading in Vegeta's beer bottle, but Bulma called out to them before he could respond. "Hey, where are my two handsome Saiyans?"

"We're in here!" Trunks called back. A few moments later, Bulma appeared in the doorway, smiling at them both.

"Hey guys, didn't mean to interrupt…" she paused, eyeing the smashed fruit on the table in confusion.

"Don't ask," Vegeta grumbled, bringing his beer up for another drink.

Bulma laughed, "I won't, just wanted to make sure everything here was going alright."

"Yeah! Dad was talking to me about sex," Trunks excitedly informed his mother, to which Bulma smiled and nodded in approval.

"Oh, good. Well, I won't interrupt then-"

"Mom, wait!" Trunks cried out. The boy slipped out of his chair and ran up to his mother, grabbing both of her hands, his blue eyes wide with excitement as he grinned up at her. "Can you and Dad have sex so I can have a little brother?"

"Oh, um, wow," Bulma stuttered out, uncharacteristically left at a loss for words. "You still want a little brother?"

"Yeah! That'd be _sooo cool, _and I thought you had to buy him, but you two could just make him so it's even better!" Trunks said happily, already imagining having a little brother walking around who would look up to him and admire him the same way Goten did with Gohan.

"Enough with the talk of a brother already," Vegeta snidely chimed in, getting both of their attention. "It's not going to happen, kid. Enough."

"But why not?" Trunks whined. "It seems easy, you just smash the banana into the apple! I mean, you two obviously have done it at least once if I'm here, right?"

"Blasted fruits," Vegeta whispered, raising one hand to cover his eyes. Just his luck, Trunks was unabashed and would likely be just as vulgar as his mother.

Undeterred, Trunks spun back to his mother. "Mom? Please?"

"Honey, it's a lot more complicated than that. Your dad and I would have to talk about it more-"

"There is nothing to talk about," Vegeta snarled, standing abruptly. "You are _not _having a sibling," he informed Trunks, not leaving any room for argument. His eyes shifted to his wife's as he angrily added, "End of discussion already."

He left the room abruptly, and though Bulma would have gone after him, she figured that could wait. She was more concerned with the disappointed boy standing in front of her.

"It's alright, sweetie. I'll talk to him." Trunks nodded sullenly, so Bulma reached down to him and ruffled his hair. "How about we go get some cards for your classmates, and a special one for Hana? And I can answer any other questions you might have about what your dad told you?"

"Alright," Trunks nodded again, feeling a little better as Bulma led him away.

While mother and son went Valentine's Day shopping, Vegeta spent the rest of the evening training, putting the whole awkward ordeal behind him. He had missed a good chunk of his usual routine in preparing for his conversation with his son, a conversation that would surely resume in even more excruciating detail once the boy finished puberty and his needs fully developed. He himself had been around 17 when he finally started becoming interested in sex, so hopefully that time was still distant for Trunks. But at least now the boy was wiser than he was yesterday.

It was right around Trunks' bedtime when Bulma brought him back home. When Vegeta sensed their arrival, he started his routine to wind down his workout. It'd been a long day, and he wanted nothing more than to eat and then get to bed. But first, he wanted to check in with Trunks.

The prince found his son in his room a short while later. Trunks was sitting crosslegged on his bed in his underwear and a t-shirt, holding his Valentine's Day card in his hands, a scowl on his face as he stared down at it. Vegeta leaned in the doorframe, knocking on the open door to announce his arrival, startling the boy out of his concentration.

Vegeta grunted, frowning in disapproval as he crossed his arms over his chest. "A warrior should always be aware of his surroundings, Trunks," he chided.

"I know," Trunks sighed, looking back down at his card as he lapsed into silence.

"I didn't get the chance to ask you, if you understood everything we discussed today."

"Yeah, I think so."

"And you're aware that you won't be doing any of that until you're older, correct?"

"Oh yeah, it's gross, I probably won't ever do anything like that," Trunks replied as he shook his head, crinkling his face in disgust. Vegeta smirked a little at his boy's innocence, and he was turning to leave when Trunks looked up. "Hey, Dad?" The prince paused, looking back and raising an eyebrow.

"How come you don't want another kid?"

Vegeta looked away, exhaling through his nose. The real answer was too complex to give to the boy, at least without going into further details about his past. Trunks didn't know anything about that yet, but it was only a matter of time. Finally, he looked back at the boy sitting crosslegged on his Batman bedset. He didn't need to give the complete answer, but that didn't mean he couldn't be honest with his son.

"You're enough," he gruffly stated. Trunks nodded in understanding, looking down as his father flicked off the light to his room. "Now go to bed and don't let me hear you awake, understand?"

"I understand," Trunks responded, tucking his card under his pillow as Vegeta closed the door. As soon as the door clicked shut, the boy crawled under his covers and rolled onto his side, not needing to hide his smile anymore.

Meanwhile, Bulma was in her king sized bed, engrossed in her latest romance novel. She didn't look up when her husband finally walked in, instead just turning the page of her book. Vegeta paused and looked at his wife, but when she didn't acknowledge his presence, he scowled and went into their private bathroom for a quick shower.

But when he emerged ten minutes later in only his towel, he still wasn't acknowledged. Vegeta dried off, and then went over to his side of the bed. He tossed his towel aside and got in under the covers, moving until he was sitting inches away from his wife. Still, Bulma ignored him. The prince finally lowered his face to nuzzle her arm, but she pulled away from him.

"Not tonight," she informed him, turning a page in her book. "I'm not in the mood."

Vegeta slowly sighed. He pulled himself up straighter and then leaned back on the headboards, eyes drifting up to the ceiling as he asked the gods, kais, and whoever else might be listening for patience. "Now what did I do?" he demanded.

"You mean besides being a jackass? Nothing."

"What in the galaxy are you on about, woman?" he asked defensively, racking his brain for something he'd done, but he was drawing a blank.

"The way you shot down Trunks when he asked for a kid brother," Bulma said, finally closing her book to turn and fix her husband with a glare.

Vegeta snorted dismissively, shaking his head. "So this is about sparing the boy's feelings? Trunks is fine, he'll live."

"No, this isn't about his feelings, it's about us. It's about you making decisions for the both of us without talking to me about it first."

"What the hell is this about, Bulma?" Vegeta demanded, bewildered now.

"It's about you deciding on your own that we're not having any more kids."

"Gods, enough with this fucking nonsense with having more children," he snarled, his patience finally snapping. "I am done hearing about it, you hear me, woman?"

"See? You see?" Bulma snapped, sitting up and poking him hard in the shoulder. "That's it, right there. You made the decision for both of us on your own, without me."

"We talked about this before!" he shot back.

"What? Once last year during Gohan's engagement party? Oh I remember that conversation, I've been thinking about it all night. You shut me down then too, but I let it go then, you know why?" Bulma asked him, leaning in closer to him. Vegeta recognized that look on her face and he wisely bit his tongue, shaking his head. "Because I remember what it was like before we got married. I know how long it took you to accept Trunks, and that was fine because you didn't owe me a damn thing back then."

"And what? Now that we're married I owe you another kid?" he sneered.

"No, of course you don't," Bulma sighed in exasperation, brushing some loose blue strands out of her face. Between the infuriating man in her bed and the increasingly mischievous boy they were raising, she was sure to grow gray hair soon. "But is it too much to ask for you to at least give me the time of day to tell you how I feel about it? We're freakin' _married _now, Vegeta. It goes both ways now, in case you forgot. If you still feel the same afterwards, that's fine, but I think my voice should at least be heard."

"There's nothing to talk about, you just said it yourself, you're not going to change my mind so what's the fucking point? We're not having any more kids and that is _final._"

"But why? Why don't you want any?" Bulma challenged, undeterred.

"Because I don't," he snapped, his voice rising as he added, "Enough about this already!"

"You know what, you can pull that bullshit with Trunks but you can't pull it with me. If you're gonna act like this and not even consider how I might feel about it, then at least give me a good reason, I know you have one and you owe me at least that much!"

"Look, female. All I want to do is sleep. I am done talking about this."

"Yeah? Well how about you sleep somewhere else then, so I won't be bothering you?"

"Fantastic idea," Vegeta sarcastically responded. Bulma exhaled slowly through her nose, shaking her head as she picked up her book again while Vegeta hunted for the closest pair of shorts he could find. She heard him hastily pull some on, and a second later, the door closed behind him.

Bulma sighed in defeat. Her fight was likely in vain, because odds were that Vegeta was right; she likely couldn't change his mind. Truth be told, she wasn't even sure if she wanted to. She just wanted him to hear her and consider her for a moment before shutting the idea down completely.

She shook her head again, looking for the line in her book where she had left off.

If only real life could be as easy as in her books.

At least one thing was always easy: her annual Valentine's Day dinner with her son. Bulma looked forward to it every year for two reasons: one, it let her spend some good quality time with her favorite hybrid Saiyan, and two, she always used the moment to teach her son how to behave like a gentleman out on a date. Vegeta believed it was never too early to begin physical training with their son, and she likewise believed it was never too early to instill etiquette into the boy, especially with the enormous inheritance he was going to get.

"Trunks, baby, you're smacking," Bulma informed her son the following evening during their dinner. Trunks instantly stopped his loud chewing, brushing at his mouth with his napkin while he swallowed.

"Sorry, just hungry," he said, looking back down to cut into his steak, doing it exactly as his mother taught him. His lavender hair was spiked up again, but this time, it was under Bulma's guidance so it looked much better and much more refined. That along with his neatly pressed white dress shirt and tie, and Bulma knew that she and Vegeta had done well in making themselves a handsome young man.

Mostly from her flawless genes though, she was sure.

"I know, that's your father's side talking," Bulma knowingly said, digging into her own food. "So, how did things go with Hana? Did you give her your card?"

"Mhmm," Trunks nodded, closing his eyes happily as he grinned. "She liked it! She was my Valentine for the day," he triumphantly informed his mother.

"Is that right?"

Trunks nodded again, and then looked sheepish as a blush crept over his face. "And we…held hands during recess," he hesitantly admitted, warily watching his mother for a reaction.

"Oh wow, sounds like it's getting pretty serious," Bulma said with a smile. Trunks relaxed and shrugged.

"Eh, she's moving soon. Going to North City next week I think."

"Aw, that's unfortunate."

"It's okay, at least she's gonna keep my card! Plus I still have all my other friends."

"Yes, you do. Plus all that will come when you're older anyway."

"Just so long as it doesn't come with the banana apple thing, that's _sooo _gross," Trunks said, shuddering in disgust as he looked down at his food, getting another forkful ready. "I don't know how you grown-ups do that stuff, ugh."

"I hope you feel like that for a long time, kid," Bulma laughed.

"He better," Vegeta's gruff voice suddenly cut in, startling both his wife and son.

"Man, Dad, I didn't even sense you!" Trunks marveled, before swearing, "One day, I'm gonna sneak up on you and you won't know I'm there."

"Tch, got a ways to go til you get to that point, boy," Vegeta snickered.

He eyed his wife, but she was busy ignoring him by trying to cut the meat on her own plate. Vegeta scowled. It was Valentine's Day, and while the couple didn't celebrate it outright, they did at least usually have either breakfast or lunch together that day. But instead, he had gotten nothing but radio silence with his wife ignoring him all day. He figured if ever he was going to make amends, tonight would be the best night to do so.

Vegeta pulled out some money from the backpocket of his black dress pants, leafing through the bills. He often helped his father-in-law with translation work, a skill that came so easy for him it made him feel awkward earning money for it. But Dr. Briefs insisted, and in moments like these, he didn't mind.

"Here, kid," he said, tossing a few bills on the table in front of Trunks. "Go see a movie with Goten or something."

"Awesome!" Trunks gleefully cried out, snatching up the bills, eager to bolt. Catching the look from his mother though, he instead stood up slowly, pulling his chair a little further out for his father. He then smiled at them both. "Have a good evening, Mom, Dad," he politely said, before tucking the money into his pants pocket and strolling off towards the exit.

Once he had left and Vegeta was sure he was heading towards Goku's house, the prince went over and took the boy's seat. He pored over the food on the table as he smoothed down his own white dress shirt, worn only to adhere to the dress code in the restaurant. Bulma fought against her smile at how much Trunks had looked like his father earlier with his spiked hair.

"Where the hell is the alcohol? You two didn't order any?" Vegeta demanded, brow furrowing. Bulma's smile disappeared before it ever formed.

"Well, at least one man in this family will have some manners," she grumbled. "What do you want, Vegeta? I'd rather not argue with you today of all days."

The prince picked up Trunks' glass of soda, chugging it all down in one shot. He exhaled slowly as he put the glass down.

"You've been ignoring me all day," he finally stated, his eyes still on his glass.

"And?"

"It's Valentine's Day."

Bulma guffawed, "You have never cared about Valentine's Day, ever. We don't even swap gifts or do anything special on this day. Now, suddenly, you care about the day?"

"We usually have at least one meal together on this day. We have for nearly a decade," he informed her, his features hard as he looked back at her. "I don't enjoy having my routine interrupted, female."

Bulma lowered her utensils to the table, looking around for a server. She needed a good martini. Unfortunately, all the servers were preoccupied, so she turned back to look at her husband. The two stared at each other in silence, both of them searching the other's eyes. Finally, she broke the eye contact first, absent-mindedly readjusting her dress.

"Is that all you came here for, Vegeta?" she finally asked. "To get a meal with me?"

A muscle in Vegeta's jaw twitched as he leaned forward, as much as he could while remaining sitting. He looked down at the half-eaten dinner Trunks had left behind, but his mind was elsewhere. When his silence stretched on, Bulma looked back over at him, her features softening with curiosity.

"Back then, before…all this," Vegeta started, turning his head a little to the side as he tried ignoring the images in his mind. "Any child that a soldier birthed or fathered was instantly claimed by Frieza if they showed a high enough power level at birth. If they didn't, they were executed. Either way, he ensured that you would never see the child again. I know what it does to people. I've seen it and I've also been the man to destroy families. I know well what it does."

"I know, sweetheart," she said, covering one of his hands with her own. "But it's not like that anymore."

"I've destroyed too many lives, Bulma" he quietly admitted, still avoiding eye contact with her. "I have no idea how many survivors are out there in the universe right now, who would come to this planet in a heartbeat if they knew I was here. You and the boy are by default instant targets, just for being in my life. The boy was a mistake-"

"Hey now," Bulma started defensively, and he raised his free hand up to clarify.

"I meant that we never planned for him, not that I regret my son. But to willingly bring another child into the world…" he shook his head, struggling to wrap his head around the thought. "One is hard enough," he ground out.

"I hear what you're saying, but you're always here. We're safe with you, Vegeta, and you're doing great with Trunks. Besides, since Buu, everything's been peaceful. No crazy psycho aliens to be seen."

"Except the one across from you," he dryly commented, finally looking up to see her roll her eyes.

"Oh, stop, you know what I mean."

"Hn."

"Thank you though, for your honesty," she genuinely told him. Vegeta nodded curtly. "Can I tell you how I feel about it?"

"Get on with it already," the prince grumbled, slowly straightening up in his seat as he instinctively squared his shoulders. He pulled his hand away from hers, crossing his arms over his chest as he waited. Bulma dabbed the napkin at the corner of her lips, careful not to smear her lipstick.

"I've been thinking about this, and the first thing that comes to mind is Trunks. Even before he asked for a sibling, I thought it'd be nice for him to have one. I know when I was a kid, before I met Goku and the gang, it was always just me. It would've been nice to have a sibling, you know?"

Vegeta shook his head, frowning as he found himself unable to relate, but he remained silent, prompting Bulma to continue.

"Another thing, is that I won't be able to have kids forever. At a certain point, I'll be too old, and that'll be that. When that time hits, even if you changed your mind, there wouldn't be anything I could do about it, unless you wanted to adopt."

"I definitely did not go over that with the boy in our talk yesterday."

"That's alright, we'll keep talking to him. Though it doesn't seem he was all too impressed with your banana apple smashing."

"I didn't mean for the goddamn banana to break."

"Spoken like a true man."

"Bah, whatever. At least he doesn't think you buy infants now."

"Oh, and that's the last thing."

Vegeta looked at his wife warily. "You want to _buy_ a child?"

Bulma blinked. "What? No!" she laughed. "What do I look like, someone who helps child trafficking?"

Vegeta shook his head, keeping to himself that he had no idea what child trafficking was, unless she meant having children direct traffic. He made a mental note to do a search online for that later.

"What I meant was, with Trunks…you missed a lot, Vegeta." The prince nodded in acceptance, looking down. Bulma's look softened as she was reminded of her son. "Hey, I don't resent you for that. I never have. But I do have to admit, doing it again, with you by my side the whole time…it'd be pretty nice."

"So you want another child then."

"I wouldn't say it's a definite yes, but I think it'd be really nice. I'm open to it."

Vegeta nodded again, and the silence they fell into was much more comfortable this time as they both considered what the other had said.

The prince looked up when a server went past him, catching his eye. He gestured towards himself and Bulma, ordering, "Two of your best martinis."

"Yes, sir, right away," the server said with a polite nod, walking off as he took mental note of the drinks. Bulma gave her husband a smile.

"So? What are your thoughts?"

Vegeta drummed his fingers against the table, frowning as he watched a martini be placed in front of him. He reached up and plucked out an olive, tossing it in his mouth.

"I'm not saying yes…but…I'm not saying no either," Vegeta finally relented, unable to deny that the thought of getting another chance to be there for another child right from the very beginning wasn't too awful, all things considering.

"Who knows, if we actually did it, we might get a daughter this time around," Bulma teased, giving him a wink.

_A daughter. _The thought alone had Vegeta immediately reaching for his drink.

"Let's hope not, for the child's sake."

"Please, if we ever had a daughter, she'd have you wrapped around her little finger."

"Whatever," he growled, making her laugh.

"Happy Valentine's Day?" Bulma offered, raising her glass to him. Vegeta rolled his eyes, but humored her and raised his in return, before downing his entire martini in one shot.

_Another child, _he mused, tasting the words and actually contemplating them, this time considering not just his opinions on the matter, but also his wife's.

He found that the words didn't sound too bad after all.


	6. Coming to light

**A/N:** :) thank you guys as always for the tremendous patience. The support I still get, even though I don't update as frequently as I did back 'in the day', is nothing short of amazing. As always, I hope you all enjoy!

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><p>With Bulma Briefs and the Prince of all Saiyans as his parents, it was a surprise to no one that Trunks was impatient by nature. Bulma often joked that the boy had been impatient even in the womb, having arrived on the scene weeks ahead of his scheduled delivery. Still, if there was ever a time for patience, it was definitely during the most important week of the year for Trunks:<p>

His birthday week.

The week had finally come again, and Trunks was pacing back and forth in his room, trying to calm down from his excitement. He had learned from experience that it was always best to let his parents bring up the topic of his birthday; they were much more receptive to hear his ideas and do as he wanted, if he let them bring it up first. The year of his ninth birthday, Trunks had hounded his parents about his birthday day in and day out for weeks leading up to the big day, nonstop, constantly, until his parents snapped. At their wits end, Bulma and Vegeta had finally threatened to throw out all of his video games and force the boy to spend his ninth birthday in the most brutal training session of his life, respectively, if he asked about his birthday one more time. Although the threats never came to fruition and he got everything he wanted for his birthday that year, the message had been clear: his impatience would never quite match that of his parents.

But it was a new year now. He was older, wiser, taller, almost an official teenager now. Most importantly, Trunks knew how his parents worked, and if history was any indication, the topic of his birthday would come up that day. When it did, he would be ready and would calmly state what he wanted. If he stayed out of trouble for the week, he'd be sure to get it. After all, money was no issue and he knew it.

Trunks nodded at his reflection, smirking with determination. He was wearing a nice shirt that morning for school, his mother's favorite shirt for him. A few extra points surely wouldn't hurt, especially with his request for this year. Satisfied with his appearance, Trunks finally headed downstairs for breakfast.

To his surprise though, only his father was at the kitchen table. The prince was sitting in his usual seat, features set in concentration, his morning mug of coffee in one hand. His other hand was preoccupied with a touchscreen tablet that was laid on the table in front of him, his fingers swiping at the screen every few seconds as he scrolled through something.

"Hey Dad, good morning," Trunks greeted cheerfully. Vegeta grunted in acknowledgement, raising his mug for a sip of coffee, his eyes never leaving what he was reading.

"Your mother left breakfast," he gruffly announced.

"She left her tablet too, huh?"

"So it seems," Vegeta muttered, unimpressed with the gadget, having seen much better from Bulma alone, to say nothing about the technology he'd been exposed to in space. Still, it did beat a newspaper. He would likely have to keep it and have Bulma get herself another one.

"Does she need it? I can return it to her, if she does," Trunks volunteered. Vegeta's eyes shot up at the rare offer, one eyebrow going up in curiosity. His curiosity turned into suspicion when he saw the sheepish grin his son gave him, but it only took him a few moments to put two and two together.

"You want something," he knowingly said, pushing the tablet away from him. He then leaned back against his chair, bringing his mug up for another sip while his eyes scrutinized his son. After a few seconds, Vegeta lowered his mug, eyes narrowed. "And your 12th birthday is in exactly seven days, so it's likely to do with that. You want to get into my good graces so I'll comply with your request. Am I correct?"

"Uhhhh…yeah, I guess," Trunks conceded, blinking a bit. Had his father read his mind? No, he couldn't have. Trunks' control over his telepathy had increased drastically over the last year-

"I didn't read your mind," Vegeta commented, startling Trunks. At the look of shock on the boy's face, the prince snorted in mild amusement. "You're transparent, just like your mother. Let's just get on with it. What do you want for next week?"

Trunks bit the bottom of his lip, wondering what tactic to take. He thought this would be easier going through Bulma. Yes, perhaps that was still a good plan; he already knew his father's answer to his question anyway. Looking as nonchalant as possible, he gave a careless shrug, turning towards the impressive breakfast spread laid out for him and his father.

"Ah, you know, whatever you guys wanna get me is fine," Trunks casually said, taking a plate and rapidly starting to fill it.

"I _won't _ask you again, boy," Vegeta tersely replied. Trunks froze for a second, his plate only half-filled. His mind raced, and then he spun back around to face his father, his words spilling out before he could stop himself.

"I was gonna ask if I could get a huge new TV for my room cause the color on my TV isn't looking as good these days and also I want to get Goten a TV cause he doesn't have one but I don't want to give him mine cause of the colors, and-" Trunks voice cracked, but he took a deep breath and continued on,"and I want the newest virtual playstation that just came out that'd be SO MUCH FUN, and also Videl's pregnant and Goten's gonna be an uncle and I was wondering if you and Mom could maybe, you know, get me a little brother maybe." Trunks took another deep breath, and then finished with an enormous smile that worked on his mother 8 times out of 10.

Unfortunately, Vegeta's facial expression hadn't changed during his son's entire spiel. Even now that Trunks was done, the prince merely stared at the boy with his stoic gaze, and the boy stared back expectantly. Several moments passed before Vegeta grunted, and stood up, lifting his mug of coffee and the tablet with him.

"Eat your breakfast, boy," he ordered. "Kakarot's devil spawn will be here momentarily, and he will undoubtedly eat the food your mother set aside for you. And _do not _be late for school, or I will never hear the end of it from your mother and in turn, I will pound you into the dirt. Understand?"

Trunks' face fell as Vegeta turned to head out. "Wait, where are you going?"

"To put your scatterbrained mother's computer device back in its place, and then to begin my morning training session. The same thing I do every morning, Trunks," Vegeta drawled while heading into the living room, as though stating the obvious.

"But Dad, what about what I asked for?" Trunks borderline whined.

"Your requests have been noted. I will pass them along to your mother."

Trunks' smile instantly spread over his face, and he couldn't resist chasing after his father. "You mean you're not saying no? To _any _of them? Even the one about a baby brother?!"

Vegeta paused, and turned just enough to level his son with a cold glare of warning. The boy instantly took a step back, raising his hands innocently even though he couldn't get rid of his smile.

"Right, right, it's been noted. I'll just go eat my breakfast then! Have a good day, Dad!"

Vegeta absent-mindedly grunted, turning and walking away. Trunks resisted the urge to holler in happiness as he spun around and ran back into the kitchen. He instantly picked up his plate, overloaded it in a second, and then sat down to eat with gusto.

It turned out to be good timing for the prince, since he narrowly avoided having to see Goten that morning. Even though he could begrudgingly admit that the boy was starting to grow on him, when he and Trunks were together, they were barely tolerable. Vegeta found this to be especially true when he hadn't finished his morning coffee.

Hours later, and all was well with the world. Bulma was at work, Trunks and Goten were at school, and Vegeta was working up a sweat in his afternoon training session. He was trying his best to focus on his routine, but he was distracted by the conversation with his son that morning. It was the first request for a sibling that Trunks had made in some months, but more importantly, it was the first time he hadn't immediately shot the request down, much to his own surprise. After all, little had changed. He and Bulma hadn't actually decided on trying again and still used their normal birth control. The topic hadn't been revisited in a long time. They both knew where each other stood: she was open to the idea, he didn't despise it, and they had left it at that.

He stopped midway through his pushups. The prince shifted over so he was sitting in the middle of the gravity room, forcing his heavy breathing to slow down as he shot a glance at the gravity reading. 600 times Earth's gravity. Vegeta lowered his head and ran one hand up through his sweaty hair. He was half-tempted to call it a day and enjoy a rare afternoon off to work through his thoughts, when there was a sharp knocking at the door. The prince rose to his feet in one smooth motion, going over to turn off the gravity. As soon as he did, the lights lifted and the door opened.

"And here I was enjoying peace and quiet for a change," he sneered, crossing his arms as he heard his wife walk in behind him.

"Oh, shut up, I forgot my tablet and you didn't even bother bringing it to me at work, jerk."

"Hn. I don't know what you are talking about."

"Oh yeah? Then I guess it was Trunks watching graphic videos about lions mauling humans first thing in the morning?"

"Nothing like beginning the day with quality entertainment," Vegeta drawled, smirking with morbid amusement. He jumped in surprise when he felt a hard pinch on his behind. "Woman!" he growled, finally whirling around to face a very smug looking Bulma.

"Sorry, couldn't help it. Your butt looks cute in that spandex," she teased, giving him a wink as she lowered her shades back down over her eyes. "Now that I finally have your attention though, did you ask Trunks what he wanted for his birthday?"

Vegeta grunted, crossing his arms firmly over his chest. "The boy wants a television box for himself and for Kakarot's second spawn. He also requested some new virtual game nonsense."

"That's it?"

"That's it."

"Alright, that shouldn't be bad. We should be able to get both in an hour, tops. We'll definitely have it done before he gets back from school," Bulma planned out loud, taking out her cell phone to check her schedule as her husband scoffed.

"What the hell do you mean, _we_? I got the intel you wanted. You handle it, woman," he ordered, turning back towards the console in the middle of the room as lowering his arms to his sides. As soon as he did, Bulma took hold of one of his hands. He frowned, eyeing her out of the corner of his eye.

"Oh come on, Vegeta, don't be difficult. It'll move faster if we go together. I got an afternoon off, and I'd like to enjoy it with my handsome husband," Bulma informed him, leaning in close enough to kiss him by his ear. The prince rolled his eyes, but did nothing to pull away as she whispered in his ear, "My very sexy husband."

Vegeta snorted, but when he finally turned to face her again, his stoic expression had lost its usual hard edge. His dark eyes were still as intense as ever though as they settled right on hers. Bulma met his hard gaze with a warm, inviting smile.

"I do not know how I've let you live this long," he grumbled. Bulma's smile grew until it was dazzling.

"Because I'm gorgeous and brilliant and you love me?" she playfully asked, unable to keep from appreciating the view of his body in front of him. The heat he was still giving off from his training session was delicious.

He noticed her roaming eyes, and was quick to return the favor. She was still in her lab coat from work, but underneath that she was wearing a very snug black tube top that left little to his imagination. The best part though was her short blue skirt that showed off just enough of her smooth thighs. Oh, how easily he could disintegrate her clothing…

"You are utterly insufferable," he growled, sounding legitimately angry to anyone who didn't know him as well as the woman before him did. But she recognized that edge in his voice.

Bulma was about to respond, when he grabbed her around the waist and hauled her right up against him. She opened her mouth in surprise as he tossed her shades aside, but any words on her tongue died in Vegeta's mouth as he forcefully took charge. His kiss was dominant, and so were the hands holding her firmly against his hot, bare skin. The rough feel of his fingers conveyed his underlying need, slipping inside her coat and under the back of her top, brushing against her soft skin-

"Vegeta," she breathed, making his heart pound. His name never had and never would sound better than the times Bulma said it like that. Her coat was off in fractions of a second, his mouth moving from her lips to her neck as he continued tasting her skin as though it was the first time. She leaned her head back, her arms going around his neck as though to brace herself against his onslaught, licking her lips when she felt the hard erection pressing against her. "You're so sweaty, and…I'm gonna need…a shower…we're on a schedule…" she groaned, half in desire and half in protest.

"You're already sweating, woman," Vegeta chuckled against her skin. He pulled back though, and slightly dazed, she met his hot gaze. With an arrogance that could only come with royalty, he cocked an eyebrow and flashed her an infuriating smirk. "Or would you rather wait until another time?"

Bulma moved her hands to his shoulders, and then down his bare chest, to his abs. Without breaking their intense, challenging eye contact, she returned his smirk with a smug one of her own as she caught the top of his spandex shorts between two fingers, sliding his shorts down as far as she could.

"I didn't say stop," she whispered against his lips, her hand wrapping around his hot erection. "Now aren't you glad that you've left me alive?"

"Hn. You serve your purpose, I suppose."

"Is that right?" Bulma dangerously asked.

Her grip tightened painfully hard on him, purposely digging her nails into his sensitive flesh. A surprised hiss of pain escaped him through his teeth, followed by a low moan that he couldn't bite down as he closed his eyes in surrender. Taking advantage of literally having the mighty Prince of Saiyans right in the palm of her hand, Bulma instantly seized his lips with hers with a passionate kiss Vegeta eagerly returned, relishing in that taste she still hadn't tired of.

His chest rumbled with a low growl when she pulled away from their kiss moments later.

"I _suppose _you serve your purpose too, jackass."

Vegeta snorted, his features easing into a brief, rare, and genuine smile. He had her backed up against the wall an instant later, her clothes sliding off her skin in pieces from a flash of his ki she never even saw. He easily hoisted her up against him, her nails digging into his shoulders, her legs wrapping around him, her name lost in an urgent breath between their lips.

It was not the break he had in mind, but he wasn't going to complain.

* * *

><p>Bulma lit a cigarette on her balcony a couple hours later, taking a slow draw before exhaling in satisfaction. She could just barely make out the water running as her husband showered in their private bathroom, and she hoped she had left him enough hot water after her own shower. Tempting as it'd been to shower together, they'd had their share of fun for the afternoon, and then some. After all, they had a schedule to keep, and they were already running late. But at least she was dressed again, in her snug dark blue dress that easily cost over five thousand. There was no way in hell that she was letting her husband destroy <em>this<em> gorgeous dress.

When she finally heard the water stop running and the door open, she glanced over her shoulder to sneak a peek at the dripping wet, naked Saiyan prince. Vegeta flashed his ki, dissipating the water off his body before he disappeared into their enormous walk-in closet. Bulma turned and put out her cigarette in an ashtray on the rail, then headed back into their bedroom.

"Are you dressed yet?" she asked, right as Vegeta stepped out. The prince pulled down a black, long-sleeved shirt down over his head, and Bulma's nose crinkled when she saw that he was also wearing black jeans. "Geez. Going to a funeral?"

"My wife's, in fact," he snidely responded, going over to take a seat on their bed.

Bulma rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Alright. So all he asked for was a TV and that new virtual gaming system that just came out?"

Vegeta grunted, keeping his eyes on his boots as he laced them up. When he didn't hear anything else from his wife, he glanced up to find her staring incredulously at him.

"What now?" he demanded.

"Was that all he asked for?" she demanded, matching his tone.

They both stared at each other for several long moments, before Vegeta exhaled slowly through his nose. He looked back down, a muscle in his jaw flexing as he resumed tying up his boots, this time tighter than before.

"He made another request for a sibling. A brother, to be precise," he admitted.

Bulma quietly sighed. She went over and took a seat next to him, smoothing her dress over her thighs. He finished lacing his boots, and then settled his gaze directly on the wall in front of him, his features set in a hard frown.

"Were you going to tell me?" she calmly asked.

"I just did."

"We haven't talked about it in a while. Have you given any more thought to it?"

"Have you?" Vegeta countered, raising an eyebrow in curiosity as he turned his head to her. Bulma shrugged, and couldn't hide the little smile on her face. The prince closed his eyes and inwardly groaned, turning his head back so he was facing the wall. "You're not open to another child anymore. You outright want one, don't you?"

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to. You're transparent," he grumbled. "Everyone in this damn family is."

"Well, what do you think, hon?" Bulma asked, nudging his shoulder with hers. Vegeta reached up with one hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. He sighed, and it seemed to Bulma that hours had passed before he finally responded.

"I think the idea of actually planning and wanting this child…and doing it differently…has an appeal," he begrudgingly admitted.

"You didn't want me?"

Vegeta and Bulma both looked over in shock to see their son standing in the doorway to their bedroom, his bookbag slung over one shoulder. The prince stood up, floored that the boy had actually managed to sneak up on him without him noticing. But when he saw the look of hurt, anger, and disbelief on Trunks' face, he realized that he had bigger problems.

"Trunks…" Vegeta started, trying to say something to rid that look from his son's face. That was a look that he knew all too well, having worn it many times as a boy. To see it on Trunks now left him searching for words that would not come.

"Is it true, Mom?" Trunks demanded, his voice cracking and dropping as he shifted his suddenly intense gaze to Bulma as she approached him.

"Trunks, sweetie, I'm so sorry that you heard that. Your dad just meant that you were a nice surprise we hadn't planned on, that's all," Bulma soothingly informed him, pulling her son into a hug. Trunks allowed the embrace for a moment before looking back at his father expectantly.

"Dad? Is that what you meant?" he asked, unable to keep the hope out of his voice.

Father and son stared at each other for some long moments. The prince knew that one word here, and he would diffuse the whole situation. Unfortunately, Vegeta felt a heavy weight on his shoulders when he realized, like he had moments ago with Bulma, that he could not face his son and outright lie to the boy. And even if he could find it in him to do so, it would only postpone the inevitable. The truth would come out sooner or later, he had known that from the moment he realized he had a son, and he had done his best to push that moment back ever since.

Finally, he decided he'd pushed it back long enough.

"Trunks, you and I need to talk," Vegeta finally said, drawing Bulma's attention. They made brief eye contact, and she already knew. She visibly winced, and hugged Trunks a little tighter, as though trying to preserve his innocence a moment longer.

"Vegeta, why don't you wait until after his birthday?" Bulma suggested, knowing before the sentence was out that it was for naught, yet unable to stop herself from asking anyway. Trunks' brow furrowed in confusion as Vegeta shook his head. The prince then he walked past them, his posture the most rigid Trunks had seen since their battle against Buu.

Vegeta paused just past the entryway to their bedroom, looking over his shoulder at his son. "Be outside in the back, in one minute, boy."

Trunks watched him leave, and then looked back at Bulma as she let him go, not bothering to hide his confusion. "Am I in trouble?"

"No, honey, not at all," Bulma sighed, ruffling his hair. Trunks was scowling, and he looked so much like his father at that moment that it brought a fleeting smile to her face. Her son had grown; he was almost at her shoulder now in height, and his voice was changing. She reached down to his chin, raising his head so they were making eye contact. "Make sure you listen to your father. Let him finish, and don't interrupt. Just listen. Okay?"

Trunks nodded, giving his mother a small smile before venturing off after his father. Vegeta was waiting for him outside in the back, his head back as he gazed up at the afternoon sky, his eyes hard in concentration. When Trunks stepped out, Vegeta gave him a brief glance, before looking ahead.

"Not here. Follow me."

Trunks didn't get the chance to respond before Vegeta's ki ignited around him, then the prince was gone. Never one to be left behind, Trunks immediately followed suit. His dad hadn't ascended, keeping up with Vegeta's pace was still pushing his limits. Ever since the ordeal with Buu, Vegeta had eased up significantly on forcing Trunks to train, as though he could recognize his son's exhaustion after his first real taste of battle. Without his father's pressure to keep up, Trunks had gradually slacked off, and it had been at least a good year since he had truly tested his superhuman strength and speed. But seeing Vegeta's effortless speed now, and realizing he could barely keep up without ascending, Trunks realized he was sorely out of practice.

Finally, to Trunks' relief, they stopped. Vegeta silently dropped down onto a mountain ridge. Trunks landed right behind him, nearly losing his balance when the rocks under his feet gave way. He quickly found his footing, gazing over the scenery. There was no one nearby he could sense, and with good reason. They were in a valley with endless plateaus, and only some stubborn green shrubs sporadically growing in defiance of the intense heat. The air was dry, and he could already feel the sweat breaking out on his skin.

"So, uh, you wanted to talk?" Trunks asked warily, gazing up at his father.

Vegeta was on higher ground, and had his back to his son while he scanned the familiar surroundings and played out an old battle in his head that he had never forgotten. He leaned his head back, breathing in, only to find that the air still tasted the same even after all these years. Still, he would have preferred to relive that defeat than face the boy behind him. He'd known this day would come, but he hadn't planned it; hell, even them being there was the result of an impulsive decision. He didn't know what to say. He didn't know what Trunks would say. The boy was raised differently; he was raised better. Nothing might change, or everything could change. The prince was a man who liked to know exactly what was going to happen, and at what time. He hadn't felt this type of uncertainty in some years, and he hesitated.

But it was only momentary. After all, the Prince of Saiyans was no coward. He was going to tell his son the truth, and he would accept whatever happened afterwards.

"This is where I fought Kakarot and his weakling friends when I first came to Earth," Vegeta remarked, practically feeling Trunks' surprise behind him. He turned enough to look back at his son, who was looking around with wide eyes.

"It's a pretty good place for a fight," Trunks admitted, and Vegeta raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

"You've heard about it."

"A little, yeah. I heard that it was a good, tough sporting fight," Trunks announced proudly.

"Oh, and who told you that?"

"Goku did, when Goten and I asked. He said you were pretty tough!"

"Hn." Vegeta paused for a moment, frowning as he looked off to the side. "What else did he tell you?"

"That was it, that you guys fought at first but then you helped save everyone on Namek," Trunks answered with a shrug.

"What else?"

"Uh…I dunno," he said, scowling as he brushed his now-sweaty hair out of his eyes. "I think that's it."

Vegeta grunted and turned away again. He lapsed into a silence that seemed to stretch on for decades in Trunks' mind, but the boy bit down his impatience. He had learned the hard way over the years not to interrupt his father when he fell into these types of heavy silences. More than that though, he could feel a difference in Vegeta's ki. It was strumming low, and he could see how hard Vegeta's hands were gripped.

"Trunks, what I said earlier was true," Vegeta finally informed him, making Trunks' face scrunch up in confusion. The prince turned to face his son directly, his gruff voice making his words even more blunt. "Your mother might try to sugarcoat it, but I think you're old enough now to handle the truth. When I met your mother, I did not want children. I had never wanted children. You were not planned, and I…reacted poorly when I found out I had a son."

"Oh," Trunks softly said, forcing himself to swallow.

"You are not a mistake, Trunks. You're my son. If we still had a throne, you would be a worthy heir. Don't ever think otherwise," Vegeta clarified. Trunks breathed out, his shoulders relaxing, and he nodded. His father continued, "But I was a different man then. The only reason I even came to this planet was to get the Dragonballs. I wanted immortality so I could rule for all time. I would have done anything and killed anyone who got in my way."

Trunks suddenly felt cold as he mulled over his father's words. He studied Vegeta's eyes, seeing no trace of a lie. Sure, his father often threatened him and his mother, but they were half-hearted words, and after growing up with it, Trunks had never considered that his father was capable of following through. After all, Vegeta was one of the "good guys". He had saved the planet, Trunks had seen it himself. But there was a coldness to his father that he was seeing now that he'd never seen before.

"You've killed before," he realized.

Vegeta's gaze was hard. "You already knew that, Trunks. The incident with Buu. Remember?"

"Yeah, but that's cause you were possessed…" Trunks' voice trailed off as he studied his father for confirmation.

"I let it happen," the prince bluntly told him. "But the whole reason I was even targeted was because of my old nature. Son, that wasn't the first time I killed. I worked for an intergalactic tyrant named Frieza, for almost my entire life prior to coming to Earth. He ruled with an iron fist, and his tyranny did not end until Kakarot defeated him. Many were killed during his reign, many at my hands."

Vegeta forced himself to keep steady when he saw the flash of different emotions over his son's face. Surprise, a flash of disappointment, some wariness. Trunks cleared his throat.

"Were they bad? Is that why you did it?" he asked, his blue eyes still filled with hope. Vegeta took in the boy in front of him, the boy soon to become a teenager, and then a man. Time had slipped by, and how he wished he could preserve the boy's innocence. But the truth needed to be known.

"No," Vegeta finally answered. This time he couldn't quite keep his expression neutral, letting a fracture of regret creep through. His mouth felt dry, but he forced himself to continue. "There were a handful I killed, who did deserve to die. But the rest were innocent. Men, women…children. I spared no one. Most killings were done in mass, and were assigned to me. I couldn't have backed out even if I wanted to. But I won't lie to you, Trunks. Not every death at my hands was from an order. There were many who I killed, because I wanted to. The rush of power, the thrill of hunting down the next kill, I enjoyed it. And I was very good at it."

Vegeta's blunt admission struck Trunks like a punch to the chest. He desperately studied his father, hoping it was a lie, and just some kind of morbid test of fortitude. But when he saw nothing but cold truth in Vegeta's dark eyes, something inside of him broke. The boy took a step back away from his father, and then looked away, his fists clenched tightly at his sides.

"Mom knows," he stated weakly, not quite asking. Vegeta nodded. "Does everyone else know?"

"Everyone except you, Goten, and Marron."

"Gohan?"

Vegeta snorted. "Of course Gohan knows. I nearly killed him during the battle right here."

"It wasn't a sporting battle."

"No, that's just what was told to you and Goten. But it was not a sporting battle; it was life or death. If I would have won that fight, I would have killed everyone on this planet and you would not be here."

There was silence for a long time as father and son didn't move. Vegeta was trying hard to read the boy in front of him, but it seemed that his training had paid off well. Trunks was completely unreadable, his face neutral while he kept his ki strong and steady.

His voice, however, was not steady when he asked, "How many?"

"Too many to count."

"Then guess!" Trunks angrily shouted as he whirled back to face his father. Vegeta let the disrespect slide, instead taking a deep breath.

"Trunks, there are over seven billion people on this planet, so if I wiped this planet clean of life, that would be seven billion lives. But I purged hundreds of planets of life. If there was ever a count, I lost it a long time ago…Trunks," Vegeta started, taking a step forward when he saw the tears of red-hot rage in his son's eyes. "I was-"

"I don't care! You were worse than Buu and that Cell guy everyone talks about! You're worse than anyone that's ever threatened our planet!" Trunks borderline screamed, his voice cracking and dropping. He stopped in frustration that he couldn't control the ups and downs of his voice, and he stifled back his tears.

Once upon a time, Vegeta would have laughed and taken pride in the boy's words. But he nodded, accepting the words and his son's anger.

"I thought you were good," Trunks finally exhaled, now looking both disgusted and disappointed. "I know you're not like Goku, but I thought…I thought you were just as good as him, but you're not. It's like…it's like…it's like I don't know you at all."

"Trunks, this was a long time ago. I'm still your father-"

"Yeah well I wish you weren't!" Trunks snapped, the anger burning in his eyes again as his voice kept rising, his lip curling up in rage, "You're a monster, and I wished you had stayed dead when you died with Buu!"

Vegeta's eye twitched, but he said nothing. Nor did he make a move to stop his son when the boy's ki ignited around him, before he took off in the air. He knew instantly that Trunks was headed towards Goku's house. An effort to get comfort from friends, or an effort to rile up the troops to take the evil Saiyan Prince out? Vegeta reckoned the boy would be more successful with the former.

When the boy was out of sight, Vegeta let out a breath he wasn't aware he'd been holding. The prince lowered himself so he was sitting on the rocks, raising one knee. He stayed there for a long time.

Same location, another painful defeat.

* * *

><p>Dinner that night was quiet. Bulma eyed her husband carefully while he ate, but he had been tight lipped since he got home, only telling her that the boy was at Kakarot's and would be home later. No matter how much she had prodded him, no matter how many tactics she used to get him to say more, Vegeta didn't say another word about his talk with their son. It was another reminder that when the man made up his mind about something, <em>truly <em>made up his mind, nothing could sway him otherwise – not even her.

Still, the fact that it was dark out and Trunks was still not home yet, and the fact that Vegeta was still on his first plate while she had already served herself seconds, told her everything she needed to know.

"I'll give him until tonight," Bulma finally announced when the silence became unbearable. Frowning, Vegeta looked up. "If he's not home by 10, I'm calling Chi-Chi to have Goku teleport his butt back home."

"You'll do no such thing," he said, his voice sounding tired. "Let the boy stay there until he is ready to return."

Bulma sighed, getting up to put her plate away for her bots to clean. Here she had ordered enough food to feed a hundred grown human men, to have enough for herself, her Saiyan husband, and their growing hybrid son. At least they were going to have leftovers. It was a small consolation.

When she came back, Vegeta was staring down at his plate. He was holding his utensils in both hands, but he had barely eaten a quarter of the food she had laid in front of him. His eyes were distant, and she recognized that look on his face all too well.

He blinked, brought out of it when he felt her arms wrapping around him tightly from behind. She was bent over, leaning against him as she rested her head against his shoulder.

"Remember what I told you when he was a baby. I won't let him hate you," Bulma whispered in his ear. "Your old life is in the past, and you're not the same man. I'll help him see that, even if it takes a little bit of time. He's stubborn, you know, since he _is_ our kid. But Trunks loves you, and everything will be alright."

Vegeta frowned and didn't react for several seconds. Finally though, he leaned back against her, exhaling through his nose as he did.

"And you want to bring another child into this mess?" he grumbled.

"Um, excuse me. We are not a mess, we're a family, get it right, mister."

"What's the difference?" he snidely asked.

"Don't be so pessimistic, hon. Besides, kid #2 isn't even here yet."

"You mean _potential _kid #2."

"Right, well, we'll tell potential kid #2 together, how does that sound?"

"Oh, it sounds fantastic, now I'm really looking forward to it," he deadpanned. Bulma lightly smacked his chest as she pulled away from him, resting her hands on his shoulders while he reached for his glass of water.

"Yeah, yeah. Anyway, we'll handle the potential one later. Right now, we should focus on already-here kid #1," she informed him, looking at the enormous glass clock in their dining room. "It's getting late. You sure you don't want me to call?"

"Yes, just leave the boy for now," he gruffly told her, pushing his plate away as he stood up. "Give him at least one day before you call."

"You're not gonna finish your dinner?" Bulma asked, biting her lip a little as she eyed his food. Rare were the times when her husband didn't devour all of his dinner with his insatiable appetite. Oblivious to her concern, Vegeta waved it off with indifference as he made his way towards the living room.

"I'm going to change, then I'm going to train. Don't wait up," he called back, already heading upstairs. Bulma sighed again, looking back at the clock. One day so cooler heads would prevail. She'd grant Trunks one day, and not a minute more.

Meanwhile, a very sweaty Goku was happily carrying about twenty perfectly-balanced enormous logs over one shoulder as he trekked home, navigating through the woods. He could have easily used his Instant Transmission, but the evening was hot and he enjoyed the physical work. With the peace the planet had fallen into, he always took any opportunity for a physical workout that he could get.

Barefoot and only in his red gi pants, the Saiyan was whistling happily, wondering whether he was going to have a grandson or a granddaughter, when Trunks suddenly dropped down in front of him out of nowhere. With a surprised yelp, Goku dropped the logs and promptly fell backwards, landing sitting down.

"Ahhh, so _that's_ what it feels like when I use my Instant Transmission to drop in on someone else," he chuckled, scratching the back of his head as he grinned. "Good job, Trunks. You should tell your dad that you managed to scare me, I'm sure he'd get a kick out of that."

"How can you talk like that about him, when you know what he's done?" Trunks demanded, his jaw set tightly and his fists clenched hard. His whole posture was tense, and he looked for all intents and purposes like he was ready for a fight.

Goku looked perplexed for a moment, and then realization dawned on him. He patiently smiled, nodding in understanding as he got back up on his feet, patting at his pants a bit to get the dirt off his hands.

"I guess Vegeta finally told ya, huh?" Goku asked as he began to pick up the dropped logs to hoist up over his shoulder.

Trunks leaned forward, putting his hands on his waist as he yelled, "Yeah, he did, even though apparently EVERYONE knew about it and no one told me!"

"It was no one's place to tell you except for your dad. If you're old enough that Vegeta thought you could handle it, then you're old enough to understand that, right?"

Trunks exhaled sharply through his nose, scowling as he angrily crossed his arms over his chest. Goku looked away as he smiled a little and picked up another log. The kid was definitely Bulma and Vegeta's, that was for sure.

"How come you let him get away with it?"

"Whattaya mean, Trunks?"

"I mean, you're the only one strong enough in the whole world to beat him, so why didn't you?"

"Hm, well, I've already beaten your dad. Once with some help, but I think I won the second fight too actually, since he used a cheap shot at the end…and our current spar count is…well I don't remember, but I do have 3 wins on him, so there's that," Goku pondered out loud. Suddenly remembering his audience, Goku shot Trunks a sheepish look, forcing an innocent chuckle as he gathered up all the logs onto his shoulder. "Don't tell him I said that though, he'll be madder than a hornet and I can't fight him tonight, Chi-Chi would have my head!"

"I'm SERIOUS, stop messing around! You had him beat when he first got to Earth, you had him, and you didn't finish it!" Trunks snapped, lowering his arms. "Why did you let him go?"

Goku paused for a moment. He exhaled, dropped all the logs again on the grassy ground, and then turned to face Trunks directly, his gaze curious.

"Trunks, are you asking me why I didn't kill your dad when he first came to Earth?" Goku slowly asked.

"Yeah! I mean, don't you know what he's done?" Trunks demanded, wondering why no one was taking such news seriously.

"I know everything Vegeta's ever done, and everything that's ever been done to him. I saw it all when we did Fusion a few years ago," Goku answered, his voice and expression suddenly serious. The Fusion had been worth it for the combined gain in strength, experience, and battle strategy from the two seasoned warriors, but he hadn't counted on the intensity of being able to see into Vegeta's mind and his memories.

"So you didn't know back then?"

"Well I didn't know _everything_ back then, but I did get the idea. Your dad didn't exactly make it a secret, the things he was willing to do to get what he wanted."

"Then why did you still let him go?"

Goku raised an eyebrow. "You would have preferred that I had killed him?"

"I-" Trunks blinked at the question, and visibly flustered, yelled, "No! I didn't say that! I just…"

"You want to know what I saw in him?" Goku gently asked. Trunks frowned, unclenching his fists. He buried them in his jean pockets, and nodded. "Well, gee, Trunks. Well for starters, there weren't many Saiyans left, I didn't want to dwindle us down more! But also, it's the same thing I saw in Piccolo, and Tien. They weren't on the same level as Vegeta, of course, but still, I saw good there. That's all it was. I saw good in your dad. Your mom did too."

"Tch, what good? He killed so many people on so many planets! He doesn't even know how many!"

"I know. And he'll pay for that one day. Everyone has to answer for what they've done."

Trunks' anger gave way to confusion as he blinked. "He'll pay?" he asked warily.

"Yep, he knows it too. So does Bulma. Vegeta will pay by losing what he loves most. You and Bulma. He won't go where we go when we die, and he'll likely spend an eternity alone. That would be his kindest fate."

"Oh," Trunks softly replied, unable to stop the regret that flared up as he remembered the last thing he'd said to his dad. He forced himself to swallow.

"I know it's kinda tough to take in all at once. But what he told you doesn't change the last 12 years that he's been your dad, does it? Heck, if you had asked Gohan about eight years ago, he would've said Vegeta was a better dad than me!"

"Tch! Whatever."

"It's true. I mean, man, Vegeta's been more a father figure to Goten than I have, I'm still trying to play catch-up for time I missed with Goten," he explained, with a bittersweet smile. "Still, Trunks. Vegeta's a good guy now. He sacrificed his life for you and your mom, he helped save this planet, and he's doing the best he can with you and your mom. I know he's got his hands full with both of you!" Goku chuckled, ruffling Trunks' hair. "I've made some mistakes, Trunks, but asking Krillin to spare your dad's life wasn't one of them. Besides, if I'd done that, you wouldn't be here, and who would be Goten's best friend?"

"Yeah, I guess," Trunks muttered, staring at the ground as he absently brushed at his nose.

"You know, I met this teenager once when you were a baby, and he really would've loved to be in your position. He didn't get to know his dad at all until he was already 18."

"Hn. I bet his dad wasn't like mine though."

Goku smiled. "You'd be surprised. In any case, it's a bit late, isn't it? You should start heading home. Your mom is probably wondering where you are. Your dad too. Besides, your birthday is coming up soon, right? I think that's what Goten said, and I'd make a bet you're going to get everything you want this year."

"Pssh, yeah, right," Trunks snorted, watching as Goku started picking up the logs again. He instantly started picking up some too, figuring he could help before he headed back home. "I asked for a little brother, and I mean, I would even settle for a little sister at this rate! But I'm sure I'm never ever getting one, ever," he grumbled in defeat.

Goku laughed, as they headed to his house together. "Never say never."

About an hour later, Vegeta was still awake and working up a hard sweat in the gravity room. He was training ascended at his maximum, panting as he worked in 650 times Earth's gravity. The entire time, he inwardly cursed himself as he tried to keep a familiar sense of self-loathing from rising. It was a struggle. His past was branded in his blood; he couldn't separate from what he had done any more than he could separate from his own skin. Trunks was his son, his only child, and the boy deserved to know who he was. For better or worse, he deserved the truth. And if that truth wound up costing him one of the only relationships that mattered to him, then so be it. There was no one to blame but himself.

Vegeta felt Trunks before he heard him. He froze, and then glanced back over his shoulder at the door as it opened. The gravity instantly disengaged, and the prince turned as his son stepped in. The boy was wearing a look in his eyes, of fearless determination; it was the same look the teenaged future version of his son had worn, day in and day out when they had trained together before the Cell games. Vegeta recognized it again now, and he gave Trunks his full attention.

The boy breathed in slowly, drawing up his nerve, not breaking eye contact from his father as he exhaled.

"You don't do any of that anymore, right?" he demanded. "None of that killing, not anymore, right?"

"Right."

"You regret it?"

"There was no way to avoid all of it, Trunks…but…I certainly should have minimized some damage," Vegeta relented. Trunks nodded, eyeing the scars on his father's torso as though for the first time.

"Frieza did that to you?"

"He gave me most of them, yes," Vegeta replied, stepping towards his son. He gestured vaguely towards a few scars by his ribs as he stood in front of the boy. "These and a few others are from battle."

Trunks studied some of the deep scars, knowing that he himself had never been scarred from the training or the battles he engaged in during the Buu fiasco. Their Saiyan skin healed so well; he had never thought of it, and only now realized how hard his father must have been struck to leave such permanent marks on his body. The pain had gone, but the memories must have still lingered.

Father and son gazed at each other for several long moments, before the boy admitted, "I talked to Goku."

"I know."

Trunks blinked. "How did you know?"

"There are only two individuals who know me well enough to handle your questions, and that's your mother and Kakarot. I know you haven't been home, so it was obvious."

"He said that when you die, you won't be with us," Trunks admitted, his voice unsteady. It was only after he had tasted and voiced the words, that he realized how badly he didn't want that to happen. He had already lost his dad once, he didn't want to lose him again.

"It's very likely."

"You knew that?"

"I've died twice already, Trunks. The good in my life will never outweigh the bad, so neither time was pleasant. The third time won't be either."

"Speaking of…" the boy awkwardly shifted his weight, suddenly looking down. "About what I said earlier-"

"Already forgotten."

"It's just…you've done so many bad things," Trunks quietly said, still staring at the floor.

"I know, son," Vegeta replied, just as quietly. "I know."

"You would never hurt me and Mom, right?"

"Never," Vegeta answered with so much conviction, it left no doubt. Reaching out, he put a hand on Trunks' shoulder, giving a firm squeeze. "Nothing will happen to either of you, not by my hand or anyone else's, as long as I breathe. I give you my word, and I break my word for no one."

They lapsed into another silence, before Trunks looked up and ventured, "I finally snuck up on you today, y'know."

For the first time since that afternoon, Vegeta's features eased. "I know. You did well," he proudly informed his son.

"I know it's late and all, but ah, do you think maybe we could have a spar? It's been a really long time. I'm kinda rusty."

Vegeta smirked a little, giving a short nod. "Just don't tell your mother."

Things wouldn't be mended overnight between them, but Vegeta figured a late-night spar between father and son was more than a decent start.


	7. Starting the process

**A/N:** A Halloween update, cause, why not? :) I'm sorry this is late! I hope you guys like. :D

* * *

><p>If Bulma had thought things would go back to normal overnight, she was quickly realizing just how wrong she'd been.<p>

Family meals had always been the highlights of her days. After her husband and son would temper their insatiable Saiyan appetites, they would open up and converse about their day. Well, she and Trunks would still carry most of the conversation, but depending on his mood, sometimes Vegeta would participate. Regardless, the prince would normally stay through most of the conversation, and that had always been enough for his wife and his son.

Now with the brutal truth out in the open though, things had changed. Their family meals together were now short, and their conversations were awkward, stilted, and usually only carried by her alone. No matter how much she prodded Trunks, she could hardly ever get more than a few words out of him when Vegeta was in the same room. Months had now passed since his birthday, but Trunks' and Vegeta's relationship was still rocky at best.

It was uncharacteristic of her son. Trunks was usually like her, more eager to move on and make things right, than dwell and brood for so long, which was more up his father's alley. But Vegeta insisted that she leave him alone, to let him come to terms with the truth in his own time.

It was asking a lot. Bulma Briefs was not a patient woman, but she recognized that this was between father and son, so she did her best to stay out of it.

But she also hadn't expected it to last this long. Halloween had nearly arrived, and things were still awkward, much to her chagrin. After some deliberation, she decided it was time to take action. While she couldn't outright fix their relationship, she could at least nudge her favorite two men in the right direction.

Trunks was sitting at the desk in his room, in Superman boxers and an old Capsule Corp tank top, fully engaged with the game he was playing on the brand new laptop he had gotten on his birthday. He was scowling in concentration, the volume up so high on his headphones that he did not hear his mother come in. Nonetheless, he sensed that she was there, and he reached up with one hand and shifted his headphones off one ear.

"What is it? I'm busy," he informed her, his blue eyes never leaving the screen of his laptop.

Bulma sucked at her teeth a little bit, forcing herself to stay patient, but she couldn't keep the edge completely out of her voice. "Good morning to you too. Can you give that thing a rest for one minute so I can talk to you, Trunks? You shouldn't even be playing this early in the morning."

Trunks dramatically sighed, pausing his game. He moved his headphones so they were around the back of his neck, and he spun in his chair to face his mother. He looked at her expectantly.

"You know what week it is, right?"

"Last week of October," Trunks answered, already sounding bored.

"Yep, almost Halloween."

"Oh? I didn't notice," Trunks deadpanned. "Thanks for letting me know," he added, turning back to his laptop, raising his headphones up so they were covering his ears again as he resumed his game.

Trunks got all of two seconds back into his game before Bulma ripped the headphones off, making him yelp. Just as fast, Bulma had closed the laptop, effectively putting his laptop to sleep.

"_Mom_!" Trunks cried out angrily. "You ruined my game and now-"

"I. _Do not._ Care," Bulma interrupted, leaning in closer until she was right in his face. Trunks leaned back as much as he could against his leather seat, his resolve melting under his mother's intimidating gaze. "I'm trying to be patient, Trunks, but if you're rude to me one more time I will donate every last electronic device you have to charity. You got it, buster?"

Trunks swallowed and quickly nodded.

"Good." Bulma leaned back, moving Trunks' laptop aside and tossing his headphones on his desk. She easily hoisted herself up on his desk, crossing her legs before surveying his bedroom. Her voice was softer when she spoke again. "You've been mad at your dad for some time now. Do you want to talk about it?"

Trunks frowned and averted his eyes, staring off at a poster in his room. "I'm not mad."

"No?"

"Well, I'm a little mad," he corrected himself, his blue eyes shifting back to meet his mother's as his frown deepened. "You never told me," he accused.

Bulma breathed out, and nodded. "I know. It wasn't my conversation to have with you, kiddo, but, I am sorry. I know how much you look up to your dad."

"Tch," Trunks crossed his arms, looking away again. "Well, I'm not that mad anymore…like, I get it. I get why he did what he did, I think. But…" he paused, brow furrowing in thought, lapsing into silence.

"But?"

"I don't know, I guess it's like he's someone else now."

"He's not. He's still the same person he was before you knew. He's still your dad."

He snorted. "Yeah, and he's also a killer."

"Not anymore."

"That doesn't make it better though, does it?"

"Of course not. No one is saying that. But people do change. And believe me, your dad is not the same guy he was when I first met him," she laughed humorlessly. Trunks looked back at his mother, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. He hesitated for a moment, making her sigh. "Just say what you want to say, Trunks."

"Well, I've kinda gotten bits and pieces of stuff that happened before I was born, and then on Namek, and no one's given me the full story…" he looked at her expectantly.

"Why don't you ask your dad for the full story?"

"Cause he would gloss over a lot of stuff."

Bulma thought it over. "Yeah, that's probably true," she relented. She knew quite a bit about her husband, but there was a vast dark sea of his past that he never spoke about, even when asked directly. She wasn't sure if he'd be more receptive with Trunks asking instead of her, but she didn't like the odds regardless. "Well, how about this? I'll tell you everything that happened up until you can remember, filling in all the holes for you. In return, you be nice to your dad today and hang out with him a little while."

"We hang out," Trunks challenged, stubbornly pursing his lips. "We've sparred like, twice or whatever in the last few weeks."

"So over the last few weeks, the only real interaction you've had with your dad is to fight him? And only twice at that?"

"It's a Saiyan thing," he muttered half-heartedly, shrugging. In actuality, fighting was a tremendous outlet. He supposed he didn't get _that _from his mother's side though.

"Well, how about you do the human thing today and not fight your dad. How about you guys go pick up candy for the Halloween trick or treaters? Maybe get yourself and your dad costumes too?"

Trunks guffawed. "Dad _hates_ shopping."

Bulma smiled. "Try him."

"Eh, alright, I'll ask." He shrugged, not enthused but not fully opposed either. "But! I want to know everything," he said, sitting up straight in his seat in anticipation. "Tell me everything, Mom, and don't leave anything out. Please," he added when he saw the look he got.

Bulma nodded, taking a deep breath. "Alright, I'll tell you as much as I can. Gee…where to start?" she breathed out, leaning her head back as she looked up at the ceiling, drumming her fingernails on his desk. "Man, so much as happened. I guess it all started when Raditz came to Earth…"

A couple hours later, Vegeta was shutting down the gravity after his training session. After all, it was time to eat, and he was nothing if not meticulous when it came to schedules. Vegeta wiped the sweat off his face and his bare chest with a towel as he stepped out of the gravity room into the backyard of the compound, before sighing in defeat.

He knew the boy was in the kitchen before the gravity room door even closed behind him. His son was barely speaking to him these days, and while he would have wished for the silence once upon a time (the boy had inherited his mother's ability to speak nonstop), he was now left at a loss. He had known this would be difficult, but he was not equipped to smooth things over with the boy. The best he could do was give Trunks the distance he needed to process things in his own time.

Vegeta entered the kitchen, intent on doing just that. Trunks was pouring himself a glass of orange juice when he entered but the prince didn't even glance at the boy as he walked in, intent on heading upstairs to shower before his meal.

Trunks lowered the container of juice on the counter, not looking at his father as he called out, "Hey, Dad?"

"Hn?" Vegeta paused, looking back at his son, his hard gaze unreadable. Trunks turned so he was leaning back against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. Father and son stared at each other for some long moments, but it was finally Trunks who looked down first.

"You want to go out with me after lunch? Maybe…go shopping and get some candy and costumes, just me and you?" Trunks hesitantly asked. "You know, for Halloween…" his voice trailed, and he shuffled his feet a bit. His eyes were still down as he wondered when it had become so hard to talk to his dad.

It was all Vegeta could do to keep the surprise off his face. The only times the boy had spoken to him recently was to train with him; though he suspected Trunks just wanted to hit him, he humored the boy each time. This request was different entirely. As much as he despised shopping the way the humans insisted on doing it, he nodded in acceptance. If this was the price to pay for his son's company, he would gladly pay.

"Fine. We'll eat first, then we'll go," Vegeta gruffly informed his son.

The prince left, heading upstairs towards his bedroom and completely missing the shocked look on Trunks' face. The boy had been certain his father would turn him down. Trunks blinked, then turned back to the counter, picking up his glass of juice and chugging it all down in one shot. All the while, he remembered everything his mother had told him. It would take some time to accept the complete picture, but he was grateful to finally know, and many things about his father suddenly made _so _much more sense.

And if he was being honest with himself, the idea of going out with his dad that day wasn't _too _terrible…

Moments later, Vegeta entered his bedroom, frowning in disgust at the mess on his bed. Clothes, gift wrapping paper, tape, glue, and at the head of it all, one flustered woman folding a shirt that looked far too small for an adult.

"What the hell are you doing now, woman?" he asked as he headed over to their closet to get a fresh towel.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Bulma snorted, not even looking up at her husband as she put a pile of baby clothes on top of a sheet of shiny pink and blue wrapping paper. "I'm going by Chi-Chi's for Videl's surprise baby shower. I got her baby some cute outfits!"

"Hn," he grunted, coming up next to her. He scowled as he looked down at one of the gifts, reading aloud, "_From Bulma, Vegeta, and Trunks. _Tch. The child is not even out of the womb, and it is already being coddled. I fear for the future of the Saiyan race."

"Right. Because Gohan and Videl should just send their baby off to the wilderness to grow up there."

"Precisely."

She sighed. "Look, buddy, if you're just gonna stand here, make yourself useful and help me wrap some of these clothes. If not, go take a shower. You stink. Plus, Trunks is probably waiting for you."

His eyes narrowed. "What did you say to the boy anyway?"

Bulma looked up, making eye contact with her husband. "Nothing that wasn't true. I just filled in some gaps that you left out."

"Damn woman, I told you to stay out of it," he growled.

"I know, and I tried, but it's been so long now and this thing between you and Trunks is driving me nuts! I figured the kid needed a different perspective. Besides, you didn't even give him the whole story."

"I gave the boy enough. If he wanted more, he should have asked for more."

"Maybe he would have, if he'd thought you'd actually give him more," she chided. A muscle in Vegeta's jaw flexed as he clenched his teeth. Bulma sighed, putting down the gifts she was preparing as she walked over to her husband. "Hon, he's getting older," she said, her voice softer. "He's going to have questions that only you can answer, but if he doesn't think you will, then he'll go to someone else. And I'm not just talking about your past, I'm talking about him just growing up. He's almost a teenager, he has to be comfortable talking to his dad."

He scowled, looking down at their hands. Somewhere in her words, she had laced her fingers with his. He exhaled slowly through his nose while he ran his thumb along the soft skin of her hand, his answer in his touch. Bulma responded by tightening the grip on his hand.

"I hate shopping," he finally grumbled.

"Mm, but you agreed when he asked," she said with a knowing smile.

Vegeta looked up at that. "How did you know?"

"Because he's your son." Bulma leaned in close enough to give him a light kiss, before smirking against his lips. "And I'm a genius," she whispered teasingly, damn near making him smile. She then pulled away from him, going back to her task at hand. "Now go shower, before you make these new clothes start to stink too."

The prince rolled his eyes, before heading towards the bathroom. When he was at the door, he looked back, intending to ask if she was going to be home Halloween night. If she wasn't, like hell he was going to give any candy away to children.

However, he paused, the words stilling in his throat as he observed his wife. Bulma had her back to him, but it was clear she had stopped wrapping the baby clothes. He frowned, and was about to speak when he finally realized that she was holding one of the infant shirts. He couldn't see the look on her face, and if he was being honest with himself, he wasn't sure he wanted to. The talks of another child had died down after everything with Trunks, but now with Videl's pregnancy underway, he occasionally caught a look in her eyes that was a hint of sadness sometimes, longing other times. He didn't want to know which one she was wearing now. Feeling absurdly guilty, he turned and silently disappeared into the bathroom.

Being a warrior was nowhere near as difficult as being a husband and a father.

* * *

><p><em>I'm here for my son, <em>he kept repeating to himself in a silent mantra a couple hours later. _I'm here for my son._

Still, his affection for the boy was one thing. This was another. Vegeta was trying not to cringe with disgust as he navigated around frantic parents with loud children, all trying to pick a decent Halloween costume. He exhaled through his nose in rising fury when a plastic pumpkin candy carrier with a black handle fell on his head, bouncing off his hair, the result of some boisterous children behind him.

"Oh sorry," one very tall, happy-go-lucky, oblivious father told the enraged prince. "I didn't see ya down here, lil buddy," he joked, patting Vegeta hard on the back.

"It's alright mister," Trunks nervously said, grabbing his father's arm and pulling the Saiyan away, using more than a little of his superhuman strength. "I didn't think it'd be so packed here," he admitted to his father, once he was sure that his dad wasn't going to deep fry any human because of a plastic pumpkin.

"It's fine," Vegeta forced himself to say, even as he was grinding his teeth. "Get the candy first. We'll go somewhere else for your costume."

"Well, fortunately, there's still lots of candy," Trunks said in relief, as they walked over a few aisles. "This is a bit last minute. Usually Mom and I do this way earlier."

"Everyone's been distracted lately."

"Yeah…I know," Trunks relented. They fell into an awkward silence for a few moments, before he turned into the candy aisle. "Alright! Here it is. What do you think we should get?"

"All of it."

Trunks' head whirled around to his father, astonished. "Dad, seriously? Mom and I usually only get a few bags full of candy."

"I'm not your mother, boy," Vegeta gruffly informed him.

Trunks scratched the top of his head for a few seconds. "Well…can I get what's left over after the trick or treaters?" the twelve-year-old asked with a sheepish smile.

"You can have 30 percent of what is leftover. The rest is mine. I'll give your mother some of the chocolate as well, since the woman cannot breathe without it."

"30 percent?" Trunks whined. "I want 50!"

Vegeta scowled, and for a brief moment, remembered a toddler trying to negotiate with him over some pancakes. It was only that memory that made him say, "40 percent."

"45!"

"42."

"Deal," Trunks agreed with a smile.

The boy then turned back to look at the enormous amount of candy still available, licking his lips as he did. Vegeta took out a capsule while his son cleared the entire aisle of all the candy, making a huge pile right on the floor. One click of a capsule later, and it was all in a capsule. Vegeta tucked it into his pocket, then took out $100,000 and put it in Trunks' hand.

"That should suffice to reimburse the store. Go take care of it," he ordered. Father and son then split in opposite directions, with the elder prince going to grab a six pack of beer while his son pocketed $50 for himself.

Twenty minutes later, Vegeta was sitting outside the store on a bench, surrounded by fake cobwebs and pumpkins. The prince had a sour look on his face, a beer in hand when his son finally found him. Trunks went over and took a seat next to his father, eyeing his drink.

"Can I try some of that? Just a little?" he eagerly asked. Vegeta frowned and looked down at the drink, then looked over at his son. He only had a little bit left of his drink, so he extended the bottle to the boy.

"Just don't tell your mother," he said as Trunks took the bottle from him. "And do it fast. I don't want to deal with any self-righteous humans."

"Seriously?"

"I suggest you drink, before I change my mind."

Trunks didn't need to be told twice. He finished Vegeta's beer, gulping it down rapidly. When he stopped, he gave a hacking cough, patting his chest as his eyes watered. Vegeta smirked, patting the boy on the back.

"Not ready to drink like a man, are we, Trunks?"

"It was fine," Trunks rasped out, handing the empty bottle back to his father. Vegeta tossed it aside, sending the bottle in the air until it landed perfectly in a garbage container. "But I don't like the taste of it," Trunks admitted.

"Probably for the best," Vegeta relented, extending his arms out on either side of him, resting them on the top of the bench.

Father and son fell into another silence, but this one was comfortable. The air was crisp and cool, and they were sitting in the shade, away from the main entrance of the store. Vegeta closed his eyes momentarily, enjoying the fresh air. Next to him, Trunks watched the parents walking in to buy their last-minute candy and costumes. He sighed, leaning forward and resting his elbow on his knee, and his chin in his hand.

"What was your dad like?" he finally asked. Vegeta opened his eyes and looked at the boy next to him, but Trunks was still staring away at people entering the store.

The prince bit down his initial reaction, which was to tell the boy it didn't matter. His father was dead, and that was that. But Bulma's words from earlier were fresh on his mind, and so he stayed silent a moment longer before he responded. He hadn't thought about his father in a long time, and he found it hard now to not only think about the man, but share something about him.

"I don't remember much. The last time I saw the man, I was the equivalent to about five years old, as the humans define it in this solar system." The words were harder than he imagined. Trunks was leaning forward, but he looked back over his shoulder at his father, waiting expectantly. "He told me the legends. Told me some about what was expected of me as a prince. I went on a few missions with him, near the end. Then after he handed me over to Frieza, I never saw him again. He died not long after that, trying to rescue me, to no avail. Our people were destroyed shortly afterwards."

Trunks frowned and looked forward again, thinking deeply. Minutes passed before he ventured, "Would he have liked me?"

"Liked you?" Vegeta asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah. Cause I'm not full Saiyan, you know."

"You're Saiyan enough, Trunks. You're stronger than I ever was at your age, and you've already ascended. The old man is likely proud beyond the afterlife, to have you in the lineage. Nothing was more respected than strength."

Trunks definitely made sure he was looking away, so his father couldn't see his brief smile. "What about your mom?"

"She was a good queen. Well respected," Vegeta said, finding the words easier now. "Likely I drove her mad as a child though. I was unruly and she disciplined me often. She was a good mother though."

"She sounds nice," Trunks said softly. Vegeta grunted in agreement as his son added, "Was_ I_ unruly?"

"Tch," Vegeta scoffed. "Had me looking all over the goddamn city for you as a toddler because you snuck away once while I was asleep."

"Really?" Trunks asked, blinking in surprise as he turned back to his dad. "You did that for me?"

"Hn," the prince grunted and scowled, looking away. "I had no choice. Your mother would have melted the skin off my bones if I didn't find you."

Trunks knowingly smiled. "Yeah, I bet."

"So, what do you want to dress as this year? Best to get on with it now, before more humans decide to venture out to shop as well," Vegeta told him.

"I want to be a zombie!" Trunks happily said, jumping up to his feet. He spun back towards his father, gesturing over his body. "I want paint, on my face and hands, with fake blood! It'll be awesome!"

"A zombie?" Vegeta asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, like someone who used to be dead but isn't anymore."

"Someone like me?"

"Yeah—wait, what? No!" Trunks yelled, flustered as he waved his arms around. "You know what I mean, like in one of the movies! Someone who eats people's guts."

"That would probably taste fantastic."

"_Dad,_" Trunks groaned dramatically. "That's so gross."

Vegeta chuckled, standing up. He pocketed his capsules with the rest of his beer and the obscene amount of candy they had purchased, and then looked back at his son.

"Alright, let's go get your costume then."

"Will you dress up too? Maybe you can be a vampire?"

Vegeta's smile vanished. "You're pushing it, boy," he growled, slowly levitating.

Then there was a flash of light, and he was gone, flying faster than the human eye could see. Trunks instantly powered up and went after him. This was always one perk about hanging out with his dad. Without Bulma there, Vegeta never opted for regular transportation, and there was something about flying like this he had missed. This time, he wasn't struggling to keep up either. He eyed his father from behind, processing everything he had learned that day from both of his parents. There were still so many questions he had. So much he still didn't know. But he had years to get the answers he wanted.

It only took a minute before they reached their destination. Vegeta abruptly dropped down in front of the Halloween costume store he knew his wife always shopped at, startling some humans who were coming out of the store. Trunks landed behind him a split-second later, and then jogged into the store after his father.

"How'd you know this is where Mom and I come to buy our costumes for Halloween?" Trunks asked as he fell into step with his father.

"You come here with your mother now that you're old enough. When you were an infant though, I was dragged along," Vegeta stated, a hint of old irritation in his voice. "Because apparently, even infants need cost-"

"Oh wow, Dad, look!" Trunks yelled, running off towards some horror-themed costume racks. Vegeta sighed, muttering under his breath that the boy was just like his mother, but he followed nonetheless. Trunks was facing him, holding up a vampire outfit. "Look! I think this would fit you. Isn't it cool?"

"Yes, very cool," Vegeta deadpanned, eyeing the black cape with deep crimson trim, white long-sleeved shirt with ruffles at the collar, and red vest. He grunted, thinking it wasn't as bad as he thought. _At least it's not the blasted outlet and plug combination the woman wanted us to dress up as, the Halloween after we were married. _There was a pack of fake blood included, and he almost smiled at the thought of actually using real blood instead.

"You would look awesome in this," Trunks informed him with a grin, his earlier discomfort with his father gone as he held up the costume to Vegeta. "I mean, Mom and I always dress up! It'd be cool if you joined us, even if it's just once."

_The boy is getting good, _Vegeta realized with dismay. _Either that, or I really am getting soft. _

"I will take it under consideration," he grumbled in defeat, taking the costume from Trunks, giving it another once over, and finally hanging it back on the rack. "First, get your zombie outfit. It's not as crowded here yet, but likely that will change soon."

It turned out that the boy was even more like his mother than Vegeta had thought. What should have only taken minutes, was going on over two hours as the boy tried on everything that looked even remotely _cool _or _awesome. _It didn't help that Trunks apparently always had a competition with Goten, for who had the best costume – and his son was nothing if not extremely competitive. Though perhaps, he couldn't blame Bulma entirely for that one.

The prince found himself sitting near the fitting rooms, surrounded by at least twenty different costumes that the boy was interested in. He had his head leaned back in his seat, wondering if they were going to make it back home in time for dinner, when Trunks emerged from the fitting room.

"What do you think?" he asked, putting his fists on his hips as he faced his father. Vegeta raised his head, and gave the boy a once over.

"Who are you supposed to be now?" Vegeta asked, frowning.

"Slenderman!" Trunks said, striking a pose that was more in line with Gohan's Saiyaman. "Am I scary?"

"No," Vegeta bluntly told him, making Trunks sigh as he took off his mask.

"You don't think any of these are scary!" the boy indignantly told his father, matching Vegeta's frown.

"Trunks, the day a costume scares me will be the day I cease being the Prince of All Saiyans."

"Well, maybe it'll scare some kids," Trunks said quietly to himself, a smirk tugging at his lips.

He went to put his mask back on, turning around to head back into the fitting rooms, when two smaller boys dashed right in front of him, laughing as they chased each other. Trunks paused just long enough to let the boys go, before looking after them for a moment. They were obviously brothers, and there was a look on his face that Vegeta instantly recognized. It was the same one that he sometimes caught on Bulma's face. The prince sighed.

Trunks looked back at his dad and offered him a small smile. "I think I like the Slenderman best. I'll go take it off so we can go. I'm getting hungry," he said, before disappearing back into the fitting rooms.

Vegeta stared after him in surprise. He had fully been expecting a question regarding a future sibling, but nothing came. Just like Bulma had stopped asking. It was as though they had both resolved that his answer wasn't going to change. The realization should have made him relieved. But it didn't.

The prince looked around at the other parents and children shopping for their costumes. His dark eyes finally settled on a young couple with an infant in a stroller. The child was no more than a few months old, and he found himself wondering if Bulma had come here with Trunks when the boy was that young, for his very first Halloween. He didn't know because he hadn't been there, since he was still in space training at the time. If she had gotten the boy a costume that year, he didn't know. He hadn't even seen his son that young, a fact that always made him feel guilty when he reflected back on it. It wasn't his fault, as he hadn't known the woman was pregnant when he left; in addition, Bulma never threw that missing time in his face. Still, the guilt had never fully disappeared.

"Dad?" Vegeta blinked and turned back to his son, who was back in his sports jersey and jeans. Trunks held up the Slenderman costume with a grin. "I think I want this one."

"Fine," the prince said, standing up and stretching a bit. "Let's pay for it and go home."

"Are you taking the vampire costume?" Trunks asked, doing his best puppy dog look.

Vegeta closed his eyes as he reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Fine," he spat out. "Go get the blasted thing."

Trunks hollered in victory, and ran off to do just that. Vegeta muttered under his breath that if he was going to wear such an outfit, he was at least going to have real blood. Perhaps he would hunt a bear Halloween night for dinner. Though he figured it was probably best that he just keep that to himself.

Later that evening, after he and Trunks had cleaned out two local pizza shops of all their ingredients to make food for the next several days, Vegeta found himself watching a gory slasher film on TV. Horror movies were always one plus that Halloween brought, aside from candy and the costumes Bulma liked to wear. Trunks was spending the night with Goten to help the younger boy put his own costume together, and Vegeta was thankful for the peace and quiet. It let him think. And the gods knew, he needed to think.

The movie was almost over when he sensed her coming home. Vegeta glanced over just in time to see his wife coming in. It was raining outside, and her hair was a darker blue than usual, even from the short walk from her hover jet. She brushed the loose strands out of her face, and then gave him a brilliant smile. That smile waned though when she saw what he was watching.

"You with your gory movies," she sighed, tossing her coat and her purse onto a small table near the door.

"You with your weak stomach that cannot handle fake blood on the television," he retorted, making her roll her eyes.

"Whatever." Bulma made her way over to him, taking a seat next to him with a sigh of relief. "Oh, I'm so tired. Where's Trunks?"

"With Goten, of course."

"Of course."

"Well, how was it?" Vegeta asked, scowling when she took the remote from his hand. She leaned into his side, and he raised his arm over the top of the sofa to give her better access.

"It was great. That kid really will be spoiled," Bulma chuckled as she started to channel surf. "But Gohan and Videl are so happy. It's very sweet."

"Hn."

"How was your day, hon? How was everything with Trunks?"

"Fine. We purchased enough candy. The boy got his costume and apparently, I got one too."

"Oh really?" Bulma laughed. "And what are you gonna be?"

"A vampire."

"Mm, you'll be sexy in a vampire costume…" she teased as she ran her hand up his thigh.

"Is that so?" he said, moving his arm over her shoulders, his fingertips moving down her arm. "And what are you going to be?"

"I don't know yet. But even if I did, I wouldn't tell ya, buddy, cause it's a surprise," she whispered in his ear. Vegeta turned his head towards her, his lips hovering over hers. It was all the invitation she needed.

She took his face in her hands and kissed him deeply, even as he maneuvered her on top of him so she was straddling him. The TV was soon forgotten as she helped him pull off his tank top. They both deftly removed her blouse shortly afterwards, tossing it aside. Vegeta sat up straight as she ran her fingers through his hair, clutching her close to him with one hand, his other hand going to unhook her bra. That too disappeared into the darkness of the room.

"Vegeta," Bulma breathed as he reclined back against the sofa, pulling her with him, relishing in the feel of her soft skin against his tough skin. He ran one hand down her back, tracing the curve of her spine. He would never get his fill of this firestorm of a woman, even if he had gotten his wish for immortality, it would never be enough.

When he stopped, Bulma pulled back a little, looking down at him. Her hands were on his chest, her loose, slightly wet hair framing her face.

"Vegeta?" she asked. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he gruffly responded, frowning as he did. Hesitantly, he cleared his throat. "Are you still taking that crap that stops you from getting pregnant?"

Bulma looked perplexed. "Of course I am."

"If you want, you can stop taking it."

This time she pulled back almost completely, unable to hide the surprise on her face. Her hands settled on her shoulders, as if she was bracing herself on his words. She stared at him, studying his eyes closely.

"You want to try?" she asked, barely able to believe it. "Really?"

"Hn." He shrugged, breaking their eye contact to stare off at the side, studying the light patterns the TV was throwing against the wall. "Just don't expect me to get up in the night to tend to the brat when they're scream-"

"Oh, Vegeta!" Bulma cried out happily, hugging him tightly and pulling him up so he was sitting upright. The prince blinked in surprise, but he rolled his eyes and hugged her back. "Oh, this'll be so wonderful! We're going to have another baby!"

"Not yet, we're not," he reminded her, moving his hands so they were on her sides, his thumbs lightly teasing the skin under her breasts. "But, we can certainly start the process," he chuckled.

"Yes, I think we can," she said with a smile, leaning down to kiss him again as she got comfortable on his lap.

He sighed into the kiss, reclining again on the sofa. Any doubts he had, about his ability to be a decent father, about how he was going to tell the truth about his past to another child, about whether he and Bulma were ready for another child, they were all gone when he felt the sheer happiness radiating from his wife.

For tonight though, he was just going to enjoy getting the process started.


End file.
